a butterfly-garden on a hill behind the wall of your par-need
who fills the tank and pays the bills? it's not ur car..
who rots away in a meeting while trailing mind-tunnels out doodles to escape tedium..
who feels despair on the shoulder and tries to **** it up while hearing the ocean's call..
who sees the stark-brilliance right before unbelievably blind-eyes casting pearls before swine..
hey.. *******, man!
we see only what we want to see why can nobody see the rare butterflies right here in our midst?*
S T - 10 octagon 2013
baby, u can drive my car :)
but first, u need some flippin' de-conditioner for ur.. head!
step one.. read more varied poetry - yes, I must! step two.. get a good bicycle.. maybe, a Raleigh.. lol (and a helmet, hey - very NB) step three.. ah, what the hell.. lemme grab a sand-wish already :)