I'm stuck
Please get me out
I like living with my sons
And daughters in magazines
Please release my terse rhimes
In the clutched dust of dusky hands
These days look like blaring dreams
I might die in the connoted fires
Looks like I'll stick myself with icicles
Ad veritas to my journey
Quote greats, and veritably drink wine
On the rose minds of hysterical naked souls' bliss
In this merriment of nubile nights existing in a tinsel town
We are dreaming up Kansas from the broken covenants
I'm stuck with bullish promises
Show me you care for my truancy and lurid face
Probably fondling your hands, and cupping steam
In your spectacles of crystal haze, limericks in your case
Studied by pianos reminiscent of sleigh bells and bobsleds
Hanging lights of ebony and ivory in the cars of piano men
Slowing dancing in the burning loops of tropical Capricorn
Morning sunrise haikus cold as November, sorta' short like Indian winters