making the left turn unto  Wilks ave. My steering wheel spins in my palm and
There...... on the park bench sits a red shirt and two more.

So I ease off the accelerator and squash the volume Bushwick Bill and Ghetto Boys drop low in the back seat..... Creepin.

Shirt #1 passed the dank to shirt #3 these simple ******* dont see me ......  stll creepin....shiney steel.
Locked and chambered

Shirt # 2 gets a glimpse as he takes a ****..... but now its bang bang ..... more red and chordite smoke.

R.I.P.

I strive quite often to write away from my narrow existence to dismiss the woe is me and will she ever see how much I love her plea.

So much more to know and see. Histories mysteries things that pass beneath my feet unseen yet hold great import.

Things that pass above and around me silently but for me striving to hear and see to ponder and unravel in reverie. Not just all about me and me.

I would bore myself to insanity to just keep looking inward always inward with thickened lenses.

My salvation from self pity and confusion is to bear as little self delusion and fling my mind open to the wonders past and present...the future is vast and limitless.

My god is nameless and will so remain because I am far too feeble to look at it's glory and with feeble audacity give it name.

To write away from is as easy/natural as blinking.
To write away is my salvation.

I am less than nothing in the scheme.
I am as loved as the sun that shines the roaring tide the rivers wide the wayward wind the global spin so massive yet unfelt.

I write away from me for my sanity to do otherwise  is like pulling lint from my navel while the stars twinkle a million years away and beckon.

I write away,above, below, over under and through. I hope we all can do so too

PEACE