Bitter imagination I know the wheels on Mendicino avenue The saint of the rose Where she goes alone Only hours behind where the sun goes to set Grown so tired And each irrelevant question Interminable problem Becomes a fear hard-cast in stone And even the weightless Is too heavy to bear Life is a battle The world spins rounds of ammunition The man pains to bring peace To that city far west of the place I stand
There are no flowers in the desert Only fruitless land Barren, dry And beautiful
Pleiades, hot blue and extremely luminous. From across the blackest ocean seven sisters call, but just three are putting out and only one loves me. That's okay... She's been my favorite since she said, "It takes a mighty rocket to pierce the night sky and ****** into space." ******* right. I write my atheist gospels using only the letters of her name. I collect the relics of long dead nova clusters to construct The Grand Heart Emoji. And if I never make it back to space maybe one day we can hold hands in San Diego.