Where are you off to? A pickup game inside a palm?
Punishing heaven? Well why didn't I think of it?
Perfectly absolutely incredibly perfect...kind of.
Because John says excuse me every single time you poke him in the head.
Because the lemon juice-making machine is frozen for now.
Because I can't reach my grapes or my Florida anymore.
So cheers to you.
Cheers to your weekend gettaways
and your Friday gettaways
and your Thursday gettaways
and your wens,tues,mondays gettaways
They aren't here anymore.
They've left.
or you've compromised for Saturday
Florida has made an appeal for mercy from the
ghhhh
grand jury.
...close enough.

Well once again I've lost.
Once again the die has tossed
it's-self again.
For now it is too late to call
con quien?

Fewer than none, less than a void
I be seedless as grocery store grapes.
Empty as the grave I have yet to be buried in.
I want
I need
I burn
I am
not done.
Not yet...
I should throw it all away
every scrap that is left
every parcel and shred of evidence
of memory
that is my enemy now.
Too close to call it a tie,
I've been foreclosed upon.
That's it, pack it up.
They're useless now
just let them die.

And he handed me the carnage of so many wasted and poverty stricken corpses.
And I scrubbed.
And as I scrubbed, I watched the water
turn into tea
and then into coffee
and then into a rainbow-shimmering sheen of crude oil.
I scraped the burnt-on remains-off
so the worn, rusted,
yet impregnable metal pieces
could be a bit more
presentable: lamentable.
In preparation of the first-world ones
who take a bite at pleasure, and then discard.
Who borrow by bond their treasure
and waste the world with all their lard.

So let's write ourselves a silly lillo quee
cheer ourselves up and forget all our troubles before we go off
to our shelters of grand construction.
For feelings without thought are too soon in the making
to pass onto the battlefield.
I ache, but what good is my ache-knowledgement of this?
Can analysis be worthwhile?
I love you I do. I love you... I do.
My fractured shins and ankles, toes and knees are broken.
So t(here) I am
unable to move.

Here in my lair of mind
I am set apart, but
only for the moments that I stew
in the smoke of my thoughts.
Fresh air that comes with each passing day
enriches my soul and gives me patience, perseverance, and the forgiveness
I do so require.

Hold the lamp shade for me dear, I have need of it's feather-dusted stature.
Tell me closely the refrains of that song you've killed me with so many times.
Does it not go like this?:
"Smokey softly smokey like a cloud unworthy to be turned around.
Smokey softly smokey everything is burned down to the ground."

Let the fire in those words drip like lava down your chin.
The burn-holed beginning of my baker's street body
that baked all my fears alive; cleansed of it.

The race of men with their flaming tempers makes for quite a study.
The quantity of corruption found within.
Their stated lusts
in fires burnt,
their corpses left to ash.
Great fires fought by careful study;
yet the fire fought will always win.

I lay in the light of the light that I lay.
And I shed the air
and I shine all the light
that promised to be shed
anyway.

Unto you a chill is given
unto you a shame is born.
Because of you the earth is willing
your silence has caused the stones to swarm.
Show me soul
show me mind
show me space
show me time

It's hard to change a people.
A person is quite enough.
So am I and are you so
good to me  greater to be.
I see.

You don't want to know what you want to know.
If you knew you could be
what you know you are, and you see.

Because it's obvious.
seriously, it's sitting right there.
like a dead puppy on your lap

meaning- less
meaning- lost
meaning- found
ational