H arrowing abundance rife with result
O ur minds narrowly try to cope
U nder pressure facades and near **** haute
R estricts the leisure of bare beauty
G rowing impatient by the cover of makeup
L oving imperfection is now a rare duty
A ttributes of wear benign hope and
S ecede scars born of cataclysm while
S carcely inhibiting a chance to forgive them

I'm covered from head to toe in resin, acrylics and epoxy,
Some pulverized rocks my son gathered from the Chattooga River,
Now reduced to a burnt ember dust.
I added silicone sludge and a little baking powder as well,
And once mixed, this dicey concoction is beautifully toxic,
So I waft the air and inhale it.

Painting a colorful sunset is too easy, I prefer black and white,
So with a wooden board the size of a door,
I get to work with my rubber sledgehammer, blowtorch
A gallon of poison and flammable spray.

The passers by have seen this look in eyes,
From The Shining or possibly their preachers,
You know, the same look that's a sight to behold.

Slamming the hammer down with brute force
And purposed abandonment,
I paint my sunset and wrangle the stars later.
A shower won't do me justice>

Spinning round a windy ledge,
i kiss the cross around my neck,
these fever dreams replace the likes of you.

Grinning into space, alone and lost,
the dampened linens lie,
     as i wake up,
     covered in fake love.

In my den the china white,
embraced my blood and laced my night,
an amuse-bouche of courses left to come.

The past three years I can't recall,
coulda been fun, but was it worth it all,
i'm a coma patient lacking an excuse.

Truth,
is hard to come by,
You,
are a stranger in my,
Eyes,
collude disguise.

swallowing has become a chore these days,
like mowing the lawn in the rain,
i hear my gulp when the room is silent
and it sounds violent,
my ears crack and swollen waves squeak,
am i apprehensive of deliberate rhythm?

my esophagus is as tight as a noose,
so the shrink prescribed drool,
but i'd rather swallow than daze,
and deny the fog entrance through
my maze.

we danced in the streets as the days were long
only recess and reckoning while water crept in
this city of dead, our place, where the stench lives
and bodies float, lying above the crypt's graves  

hurricane red absinthe & hand grenades
slugging the gulf like a shooter's brigade
a forecast shifts, flooding any escape
so we fire our motors with boats on em.

Can you carve color like you crave attention,
My eyes are starving,
for a golden glimpsing,
Will we wander or will we surrender,
To the darkness,
Blinding our vision.

Will these wild white words
Garner redemption,
I'm just a poor boy,
from the home of the hits and,
Can we feel like we do on the streets of New Orleans,
Watch your glass and half your portion.

What in this white world changes?
Dust bowls now filled, aren't so dangerous,
But let's Forgo the colors and drink from loving cups,
Give your hugs to a stranger.