A rosebud drips down upon the pavement
as father draws a final drag from this
porcelain pipe, its tobacco well-spent.

Rest in peace sweet little summertime bliss.
Lips pressed taut admiring the embers,
while they pieced together a forlorn kiss.

These penultimate moments are a blur
whispered by magpies on the window-pane
wrought by dust bunnies, and letters from her.

Oh lord may we be blessed and insane;
stifle these stains with bullets to the brain.

Perhaps my thoughts have come to pass
along this mildewed mile of misery.
To leave her sighing, "alas, alas..."
and hear the good times; gone in a flurry.

But bitter though this fruit may taste,
by golly by god, I'll see it through.
Using all the hardships we have faced,
this battle I'll lose, for me and you.

Blah blah blah speak to me in your city
when the shot strikes down and you feel ******.

** dee ** can we sing a little praise
for the girl with the pretty poppin braids?

So **** my blood and call me Jesus Christ
or **** my **** up I'm feeling enticed.

Take a shot, pour a shot, self-enticed joy.
Or sit inside your room you sad poor boy.

I lust for love, to call your soul my own,
yet I laugh alone in my dreary home.

Sorry that you suffered in this abyss
when all we needed was a little kiss.

Ethereal bubbling from below
pressed together rosebuds drifting down
as silk snakes into the soul.

Millions of matchsticks ignite your bones
and a crashing wave of goosebumps invades
while the wide world begins to glow.


And you don't know just where to begin
so you lay back and let your mind flow.

At the age of nineteen I fell in love
with a girl that I thought was just like me.
But she was better, not bitter or broke.
And so my mind whispered that she was of
a lesser kind, a twisted evil folk.
And there was nothing but red in this sea;
I sought her soul, and she sadly obliged.
And I told myself it was her not I-
Her that fell in love,her who wept for me.
But I knew I lied,told a toxic joke.
With a dun sigh, she'd wilt and die.
To bloom again, another day and time.
I pray she lost my name and toxic love.
But still I'm sorry, my dear friend Jodie

Shattered shards of sea foam open my eyes

nothing to do but drift through this tepid stew.

The porcelain palm trees lean in and whisper

about the ending, or so they surmised.

Closing my eyes, I take time to construe

and I see an angel; and I kiss her

and the world grows weary, silent, and still.

Johnny got a job at the grocer
and Mary-Ann moved to Japan.
Sasha strips to feed her sons,
and I hear Jacob wound up sober.

But to me they're all sad sights
forgetting where those ******* came.
So go on ahead, call me a ***,
I'll still rep this south side plight.

Yes sir, sippin my 40 in the rain,
an ashen blunt pressed between my lips,
I have that swag on my back,
and that muddle in my brain.

Mister please knock me out,
I wanna spittle teeth and blood.
Go ahead buddy, take a swing.
Punch me in the mouth.