Muscle relaxer
Puts you to sleep, a gentille pusher
R X hits the spot
To feel easy on Sunday
Mornin's

When you really feel
The nothing
In the pit, on that spot, at the bottom,
Of your soul

When the air is thick and sticky
It must be sin city
It's juicy rife with indignities
Para socialite delights
Flesh not feelings

The world feels oddly oblong
Alien stranger through my mirror
Adrift and soaked
In the sweat of my demise
A foreigner with the earth of my eyes

As the stress drowns
In Soma,
A half mind in the clouds
My indifference just as hollow
As the experiences of a corpse,

Muscle relaxer
Put you to waking sleep...
    Is that what is truly happening
The experiences of
Poetry without life,
Life without Poetry...

Half asleep
One eye full of worlds
In our world
Every wonder
Everafter

Even in sleep
We fill our dreams with color
And soul and heart and
Meaning ...

(Loves light forever
Beaming)