A tired thought with legs stuck against ***** sheets
Miles between comfortable balance and quiet retreat
I'll keep you up late at night while
Facts remain and wrinkles unchanged lie
I think I need a kick in the back or a few reasons
When regrets are concerned with time ever temporary
Impermanent worry
Swept under the rug by moonlit winter winds rolling
And ringing ear drums

The grass outside covered up by season's defense
The birds in bare trees singing toward deep nothingness
Wailing snowfall under tires and rubber soled boots
Ringing ears and a resonant mind from a lifetime misuse

Snow piled high like browning ashes,
Sky-wide cigarette drops its withered body parts
Under the orange glow of deteriorating wired suns.
Stuff up my duffel bag head
While you're already unpacking.
It's cold and clear,
Reoccurring as in a habit.
So take a minute to fold it all up nicely.
Lost my luggage like a bungie-cord station wagon,
Dry wooden panels seas of cupholder beer
Split second glances at concrete blended jeans and t-shirts
In my rearview mirror.

Project my skeleton over into the river's clammy rubbing palms.
Just like a sweaty villain exacting his faultless revenge.
Allow that villain to roll bones around in a hot stained towel and wipe me clean.
(of perspiration pooled fingerprints)
Then, of course, it could decide weather to let me flow nicely
As a severed string green bean kite,
Or carry me head first into a ****** dam.
Either way it plays out,
I'm dry.

Cold finger ends, shining sun blinds right brain with a sweet voice in ear
Discarded plastics and I am just one of them
One of everything
Endless glare off a windshield
Missing parts and pieces scattered and glued
Observe if you must the big room in blue

Move mind in asynchronous compulsion.
As metabolism, or squeezing expanding joyfully heart.

Music, the clumsy concrete of unintelligible sounds bury deep in peach pits. This fruit could be beauty, and the banging upon its soft flanks drags spirit in hand in all directions. But there is no direction, no sound, no flowing freezing mixture poured over the ripening reproductive organs of trees. It's something from nothing. Any slight addition loses its imperfect/perfect balance. Let corn husk bodies fall in fabricated winds and let go of your precious seed. Cut clean.