I’m a man on wheels.
Don’t got much to ride for
and I know how lonely feels.
Few women I would die for,
none in ribbons or high heels.
There’s a place back home
I call my own,
but the emptiness it yields
makes me remember why I’m a man on wheels.

Why not unleash the roaring flames
that have warmed your heart for so long now?
Giving in to passion may ignite our lives
like the fusion of heated elements
to create a star

Floating through the void is much less pragmatic
without the perfect appeal of a complimentary pole
Do not be afraid to pull me closer
for I am careful to keep my astral course with yours
A spectroscopic alliance
as of a binary star
soaring beside, never to collide

What’s this! what furious outrage
dares to challenge the bond that is unmatched,
unscathed by the push and pull of attraction
throughout the infinite abyss known
as life and leisure?

A supernova of despair;
a plea for renewed harmony

Well, I will bare the storm of ultraviolet waves
with arms folded at chest
protecting the stellar core that is yours to behold
Yours to claim
once the cosmic dust has settled
Once devotion has conquered

In the depths of my self
lies a world so lucid and bright,
so in tune with itself
where your eyes,
unwavering in the face of event horizon,
sparkle with such starlight
as bright as days of old

I see you there
and nothing else exists

These streets
are home to countless
rodents
emerging for a moment
to feed
or breed
or just to breathe the sun

One by one line up
for the chance to
make something
out of nothing

Who are they and
where do they go
while the city refuses to
sleep

Doors to endless lands
line the avenue
each its own portal to the
unimagined

A family of four
with the yapping mutt
or a lonely cat lady
whose entryway wreaks of *****,
a drug dealer
door slamming
every hour on the hour
or an empty snowbird's nest

On the surface
everyone pretends
they don't have a hole to
crawl back to
or walls that know
every night

But below the sewer grate
a world filled with
the stench
of what could have been a
good day

Many a barkeep can
shed some life
on these drunkards'
rat king
or at least a story of those who
made it out

Once or twice it'd be grand
to see the bottom of a martini glass
left with a sip or two
instead of the casually tipped
lipstick-clad cocktail,
drained of doubt and despair
until morning warms the
frozen dreams
of those retired to
a paradise unknown

Blank faces, hopeless dreams
Scattered down the boulevard
Thank the barren local streets
That shatter thoughts of working hard

Lonely moms, dying friends,
Barefoot children in the dark
Play behind a chain-link fence
Instead of in the park

Fast food & news stations
Feed on troubled minds
Claiming that the stipulations
Are changing with the times

These days you can’t wake up
Without that cup of Joe
Problems all those drugs shake up
Most people never know

Under the sheets of emotional armor,
A shy little girl masquerades as a martyr.
She’s the Queen of Deceit with her lies getting smarter,
While every tale told draws her self even farther
From finding out why she’s emotionally bothered
By all of the men in her life: like her father
Who only was trying the best for his daughter
And striving to be something more than a pauper
But coming up short. Who knows how much harder
He’d try if she wasn’t an argument starter?
The guilt and the shame from the family slaughter
Has made her insane and continues to bar her
From finding out just what the world has to offer.

Luckily she won’t have to be here much longer;
In fairy-tale land, there's nothing can harm her.

She suddenly finds herself all alone
With nobody’s thoughts to address but her own.
This is the time when she’d pick up the phone,
Demanding a savior to hear her bemoan
About all the problems that she’s ever known,
But what she doesn’t know is a friend can’t atone
For the lack of a man with his patience to loan
To a lost little girl whose bad temper is known.
All she needs is a strong one that doesn’t condone
All the treacherous lies and the hatred she’s shown.
It’s hard to deny all the reaping she’s sewn.
She’ll have to tread soft lest her cover is blown
And everyone finds out she still hasn’t grown
Through the hundreds of tempers and tantrums she’s thrown.
Hopefully soon she can bury the bone
And calm herself into a nostalgic zone
Where smiles and candles were filling her home
And love and affection were all that was loaned.

Enlightenment comes when you realize you’re prone
To the wrath of the heartache that comes with the throne.

Living in this yellow box filled with aging trinkets
A lonely guy trying to get by just hasn't sealed the link yet
Bout a cup of milk left in the fridge and God forbid I drink it
A shaggy dog; that ***** hog, why can't they smell the stink yet?
The junk comes barreling through the door so fast that you can blink it
There's no more room for gloom and doom, but let's fit one more inkjet
They just got rid of dinnerware,  a silver and a pink set
So now to hoard an ancient sword, a blender and a mink set
Five garbage bags of someone's clothes, the sixth one's in the sink, wet
With lots of cans and pots and pans, we'll reach the jagged brink yet
They're trying to let go, said there ain't no space to think yet
They're workin hard to raise the bar, ain't  worked out all the kinks yet

Pressed for time and low on space
****** I need to get out of this place...