Gave in to the itch, looking
for that real betterness.

I'm spinning, loud clothes, quiet figure.
Burnished copper wrung 'round my neck

reminds me how I came up, living
for the tunes we were breathing.

The wry smile
of a free animal
who knows it's time
to mix some jungle juice:

Smirnoff *****, Berliner Luft, peppermint tea;
Stroh '40' Austrian ***, apple & ginger;
Sea Dog Jamaican ***, neat;
Eventually it fades

and I feel those tendrils
drag me back into the sways,
The throes. The only thing to ever

outrun them
is music, it is so good,

So good to travel, to get away,
To come alive. Being home, perspective etches
a contrast between lives,

And I feel what destroys me,
My past chaste me,

But I always had an escape plan.