Cap and tassel,
diploma,
freedom from academia.
A swift, ****** birth
as I'm shoved through to real life,
supposedly born grown,
a bright smile and a firm hand shake,
along with a list of accomplishments.
I have none, my resume made
completely of Diablo Rock Gym
and Chipotle.
Great.
Maybe I can still fail a class,
tell the professor I copied
my A paper, get expelled
and start all over!
Or fade away quick,
sink fast before anyone notices.
I'll slide into some forgotten swamp,
survive on worms,
and my own words,
                                    my own words,
             my            own                 wo,
my                   own            w
                                 my                      own
                                               my          ow
                   my
            m                                                   y
   m
               .

i feel it...i see how the rain drops on her long hair, how wet her clothes is getting...but she keeps on walking in slow motion, deep in thoughts...like she doesn't even know what's happening around her, doesn't feel the rain. she can't feel anything. not anymore.

Books left on bookshelves
Might as well be dead....
To bring them to life
They have to be read!

I'm delectably drowning in
Jazz.......
Fingers skimming in elegant beauty over ivory keys
Perfection hovering in discord as
Horns reverberate in
An avalanche of sound rumbling through the valley of my soul
Delicate guitars swinging to a beat
Each note a sensation as it sings with delicious vibrato
Drums dancing though time and space
Titillating trails of rhythm evaporating as brush kisses skin
And there
Finally .....
Cool
Dignified
The master of my pleasure
An upright bass .......
Bringing it home in a
Sumptuous aural ******......

(C) Pixievic