Am I supposed to be enjoying the weather?
It’s fall
and my biscuits
are burning

Last night, driving with no finish line
I missed the old roads
out in the nowhere
out where I found my direction
infinite turns
but never lost
you see the signs up ahead
with your brights on burnishing
the cigarette in my hand
is my passenger and
I talk ******* with the butts

My biscuits
are burning
and I feel the fire
from our Indian summer
bonfire melting my soles
Arms in flame typing my game

Close friends in small towns you’ve never heard of
Night bringing the other uncomfortable temperature
Dancing in my pants, weak and wanting inside
The young dog watches and waits for love in the touch of my palm
I ignore and talk talk talk about where we’re all from
Late night 2:40AM drunk, the middle man gets angrier every time
That I miss the times most important, instead I sit here and rhyme
I rhyme time with rhyme
Loser

I missed the revolution today
But I’m okay
Slept well
Had my first shower
In
4
days
I bought some used CDs
and took in the overwhelming rays
Of this fake fall reign
I’m hungry
I’m happy
I’m working
and my biscuits
are burning.