post modern setback
flawless victory for checks cashed
lush trash in debt fast
gurillea tactics in head wraps
mad jazz in the bread stash
untaxed & half haz
yet I'm in over my head & brash
ghost in a matrix of mixed bags.
lego of my head stash
i need to feel alive as...
the dying side proprietor of philosophy and left hands
hire..HIRE! now deciphering a boasting deaf like coke feds
shedding the tread from this brain I encompass like boat meds
flailing like shapes on a DMT rompus and L fad
function will trumpet my skull like a pumpkin and scar masked
that carriages this glass slipper to sippers on this ill fitting purity rag
though I sing in the night...
I am but a wrapper
trapped in the power lines...
stained by the process of why..
Gurillea pigs, tasty. Thanks as always for the poetry -
ReplyDeletePoultry.
ReplyDelete