fried money doesn't taste better.
it still tastes like ****.
Even in sugar there's a burning feelin'
in my stomach brain--
   eat too much of one knowledge cereal
sweet marital marinaded bliss
barbecue kissing the pig.

Midnight wind flies through me---
you can't buy that in a can!
Words pass through me
conduit intuitively
future thoughts flood my brain
my boat is my third eye
sailing in a crazy summer dawn light.
I don't see a price tag on there, right?

Talent trickles in our blood
from a divine vibration
beating in our hearts
speeding up the parts in our brain
to see the whole picture--
like a single green leaf slowly blooms
in the dawn light.

Nothing buys that moment.