a butterfly-garden on a hill
behind the wall
of
your par-need
who fills the tank
and pays the bills?
it's not ur car..
who rots away in a meeting
while trailing mind-tunnels out
doodles to escape tedium..
who feels despair on the shoulder
and tries to **** it up
while hearing the ocean's call..
who sees the stark-brilliance
right before unbelievably blind-eyes
casting pearls before swine..
hey..
*******, man!
we see only what we want to see
why can nobody see
the rare butterflies
right here
in our midst?*
S T - 10 octagon 2013
baby, u can drive my car :)
but first, u need some flippin' de-conditioner for ur.. head!
step one.. read more varied poetry - yes, I must!
step two.. get a good bicycle.. maybe, a Raleigh.. lol (and a helmet, hey - very NB)
step three.. ah, what the hell.. lemme grab a sand-wish already :)