wormhole

I'am a composer,
a mistro.
with no eyes
& no notes/
nor a single reason to gloat
so humble
it
hurts.
down beyond the cellar door...
I am a cyclone...
devoid of form.
scores of words come pouring up
swirling smoke and I'm choked up by the beauty of the past few months
the epic rise and fall
the tides beyond the wall
how could I grow
with all this tragedy in my
blood.
Ill convulse and dip out
get spanged up
down south
keep my mouth
shut.
eyes
open.
wide lonesome roads
women
whiskey
& weed smoke.
I am no hero.
I am no clone.
exit threw the wormhole.


I am a lonley sparrow