Flying and fine hours.

I see you looking here.
I see the shapes.
The colors.
That primeval smile.
For centuries I’ve seen that dance.
For seconds I felt the chills from that sound of.
Hello.




Garrett Johnson.

****** eyes (the best kind)

Am I the head aches.
Am I the heart racing from the rush.
Am I.
The ****** eyes I received from Kissing her.
Am I.
The ***** that came after the tremolo.
Am I the bullet that almost came.
Am I.
Am I.
So tired.





Garrett Johnson

Goblins and Dandruff.

Torn from cerise faded dress.
Shirt underneath to draw no attraction.
Cuffed and lonely to the eyes from a distance
Entering the room.
Dead and staring to the top of the bottomless roof.
Not surprised.
Just thrown to a lone frigate and escape.
Lone and petrified in azure scapes.
And Left to sulk.




Garrett Johnson.

Carry me through to.

My friend said he was leaving.
So I said goodbye.
My grandfather was told he was leaving.
So I watched Fred Astaire movies with him.
She said she was leaving and asked If I’d go with her.
So...I did.





Garrett Johnson.

Loved over there and here.

Went to the old house, you lied.
Danced all alone, you cried.
Loud and clear.
Tears on back seat.
Pull over.
Tired.
Not much in my life.
Only a drink and this song.
All calmed enough to lie down.




Garrett Johnson.

Planning a ******, Starting a religion.

Slip into the pulp.
Blue denim shirt.
Never bothered me.
Charcoal insecurities.
She was cold.
Deep purple to ease into.
Or dancing to a Smiths record.




Garrett Johnson.

Odium.

Wonders in Asher night.
Oh won’t you come see me Mary Read.
For the Alabaster is polite.
And the drink *****.
No copper of coin and coincidence well played.
Unlike thee.
To not show the softness of tough.
Or show the heather skies color.
And to have no answer for the teal engraved in the eyes.



Garrett Johnson.