The thrusts of trusts
Hooked upon instincts of crooked flukes
Bloops upon loops of hopes in a rope
Nope, I want to cope walking like an antelope
Broke, sitting on a boat, with a smoke,
Cans of coke, whisky and cup of hoax.
In my mind, blind from the inside.
Slide, coincides the what if’s
Trips and coffee sips,
The leaked tips and tricks, pointed
At the corner of the eye sorted,
Like cards hoarded
In a thrift shop, copped, snapped,
Napped and again, aging,
Doing anything, sinking, sloping
From what I don’t have,
Mic’d overdubs,
Brain scrubs;
Is this love?
No, I suppose
Just a comatose
From raised eyebrows
Daily dose of lows
Trashed roses
Losses
Lapses
My heart, collapses.