I wore headphones, sunglasses and masks of malevolence, to bare the barren waste of public transit.

I omit wrong doings, in loosened valves unscrewing under the pressure.

But I often gestured for fire in showers of frozen rain while waiting for a train to come.

I bummed smokes from bums and hustled five quarters from a one, I was stunned in the slump from suburban lives.

Catching buses every morning, and every night.

Three there, and three back.

I was tired of lines, tired of waiting, growing impatient, and empathetically vacant to the vagrant wasteland, just passing through the corner of my eye.

I was lazy and decided to move close to work for a 10 minute walk instead.

Liberated and aware of the massive savings on bus fare.

I lived happily ever after.

The end.

Its as though i bang the banjo to an unknown flow, rocking my head, and shaking my hands, singing to the dead, and serenading the land.

I stand tearfully strong in long winded wailing to the scorn, and with each tear, i'm born, anew.

Dear Earth, i know you well, i know what you promote, and i know what sells, and if this is hell, then i am faring well, and farewell will be felt in my tells of seashells singing from a cell.

The street lights bounced off the slicked streets

As though ground level stars shining from my feet

The most euphoric of feelings

Reeling from the musk of toughened turf in the years of wrecks, and cheers of hurt

Overturned in burning passion for blasting the bastions of lasting hope

Interloped with opportunity and fluently cropped from the top

laying seed to the forlorn and dreams born in a magnificent city

Of seedy people
Shady trees
Volatile love
And the capacity to be

Anything you dream
In the Emerald City

Rolling in twitches the eyes ****** into the back of his head, as his lungs contracted and feathered his last breath, out of his flailing nostril, and into my breath of disbelief, holding it in deep, and breathing out with ease,  the memories and storms of a fallen warrior born unto death.

Frayed empty branches, clicking up from others ashes, coiling through the withered tubes in tune with the ever fluid flow of life, as it breaks from the ground and into the sunlight, slowly falling into the sky.

Today, our planet assists, the suns spit, in traversing the distance, to our earthly pit of gardening and ****.

Hello sun, it was fun, but ill meet you here next year. If you don't **** us.

She was a Penelope with a 300 Wetherby going for a long shot across the park, and shot a mans heart out of his back.

She picked up her bags and ran into the packed crowds of proud Americans talking to themselves and staring at feet.

She made her retreat through a hotel lobby and out the back door, but laid down in defeat, when little Robby shot through the door and hit her eye where she died in utter surprise.

An accident, Robby realized his surprise as well, so he ditched the the heater behind the theater next to the lobby, where he got stabbed in a robbery and bled out on the ground in rasping sounds with 15 cell phones out ... just watching.