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Braulio Romero Jun 2014
At work the boss shot her mouth off with her baby boomer thoughts
I missed the rainbow after the thunderstorm and what was left were fallen trees
Slipped on a banana on the way to the train that got me late
I went home for the night and I lit up the sky
What was I mad about?

People singing at the top of their lungs on the street
Co-workers ask me questions I don’t know the answers to
I prefer not to do what you ask me to
Haunted by a ghost of someone dead from a position I now hold
What do I do with these curses coming after me?

The moon eclipses as the wolves come out for the night
Spitting in my eye while they’re snarling
Fell in a flood stepping on the wrong sidewalk
I headed home and lit up a fire
What was I mad about?
Braulio Romero Jun 2014
I was hanging out with ghouls and demons
Met a man named Johnny
He bought me a drink and he wasn’t from another world
Hey Johnny hey Johnny what’s the price of a dance?
Let me melt in your eyes

Boy to Man
I’m not at all
Hey Johnny Hey Johnny
Up to a groove
Switching our feet on the dance floor and making a move
I’m feeling like I’m on the moon

Haunting me
Making me dance with something invisible
Johnny are you there?
Are you a ghost or man?
Or not at all
Oh my goblins
Braulio Romero Jun 2014
If you heard sounds over Chicago
Would it be UFOs or the blast of guns?
Do they sound like drums hurting everyone
Are they hitting your heart or your conscience?
If you fell over holes on the streets would you get eaten by Alligators

If you see spaceships over Chicago
Would you be alarmed as the snow?
Going down the city and drive you crazy

Is this the end of the world or is that snow?
Braulio Romero Jun 2014
There were faces going north and the others went to the sea
I held out my hand to reel in the rain
And the children laughed at the disaster that engulfed around them
You see the world in their eyes and the cries fell from the sky
The taunts growled the dark and even the men waved to death
As their ship crumbled to the void
There was thunder in heaven and no one wanted to seek in
Braulio Romero Jun 2014
Was Annabelle just a woman in Poe’s dream?
Was there really an angel on Janet Frame’s wooden table?
Did Emily Dickinson really wear white for the rest of her life?
Was Dante just a bitter ***** to tell people about a red man with horn’s on his head
Didn’t think it was Halloween too soon on the corner of his calendar

I resembled all the traits these  writer’s made of their spoken lives just like Bukowski
If he did live in many rooms and lost his brain cells in bottles
Maybe in the afterlife Burroughs will give me pointers on drugs along with Thompson. Meeting Rimbaud ask him if he ever was in the closet. Took an eyeful of literature before high school,  made friends with boozers, losers and psychopaths. Don’t quote me because I cherish them so much I know I’ll try to make it like them soon, dead yet my heroes they remain alive
WRITE ME OFF WRITE ME OFFF Write me down there’s no pen and papers around scrawl on the wall have a purpose to write them all
Braulio Romero Jun 2014
Don’t know what you want of me
Why have you followed me, behind; leaving a trail to get  back
But you can’t go home again because I set a trap
Illuminati in the eye
Illuminati what’s the use of your body?
Will you take me to your fairy tale world?

I saw Orion making fun of Hailey’s comet
I can’t compare I saw his eyes melt into the sun
Never will he drift away in space anymore
And one warrior shouts with joy his pride has fallen
The trees don’t sway to my presence
And the air becomes dead
Braulio Romero Jun 2014
Rain trickles down against the window, echoing as it pelts the angels halo
I let my mind wander and didn’t think
a neck in my pain so hollow he wanted my skin but he changed his head after I said what I believed in and lost the shape of my reasons

In the dark in the mist there's a howl of pain from the ghastly trains in the dead of night
there must be something up inside because the mouse has lost its wheel

I close my eyes to let go of my body and when my hand wanders my bed I can sense I'm about to beam up to the moon
don’t know if I'll reach to be 27, this sweet dying lullaby rambles and passes heaven
listen closely you can hear a whimper at the end of the world
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