Horn dog post watchmen
Hanging from a line made of money
And sweet fragile time
Nodding to a tune played
From the fiddle with a man
With the low down and sad blues
Not in the night is
Love not running in these streets
Cobbled heart beats like
The clicking of knee high heels
Sweet ***** of the way ward road
Sweet kiss me good night baby
It is my birthday
Negative in nocturnal eternity sounds
Make there way through me and
Far far past me like the whistling
Train or the soaring plane
Above me
As if the clouds weren't jokers
And the God's aren't grinning with
Grim and brutal satisfaction
Writing down absences of myself
The one's taking a "personal" break
Tired of all this repetition and
Loose hair abstractions
Dictators hanging from
Multi-colored rainbow translucent
Umbillical chords clearing their dead throats
Coughing up hair *****
From two years past Christmas parties;
"Still trying to get that stain out," he laughs while crying
Noon tide here now the oceans breathe with a warmth
I only thought I would feel in the womb
Off this stop is the first place I fell in love
Under lucid clear green leaves and a mystery
Moon that chimed like my grandpa's homemade
Bathtub secret stash wine
Well I'm well when she's well so that's swell
And I got some money and the honey
Grins as I rub her bulging tummy
And I don't think about aging to much
Since I can't do much about that and such
And the store is **** with wealth and the
Shelves are filled with goods as they should
Questions not of mine but mostly of others
Where they come from and why they here
Movies never made and poetry never read
Past up for time and its many types of keep sake
The rake of souls has dwindled and I bet
God or the Devil is feeling pretty swindled
But round' here neighbors say hello and
Goodbye and farewell and of course good luck
Gibberish is in high demand as ye' broken face
Makes hesitation and impatience much more
Appearant especially when its late
Here though the characters are more humorous
By every passing day lo' the sides
Are getting thinner and no one is sure
Of who will be the loser and who will be the winner
Stars are late coming up at times
You been searching for another way to live,
Another kind of rhyme?
Well the heat here is nice
We all enjoy the dice
But if you must go
Take off fast, steady and never
Too slow