Incidentally climbing
ladders—

riches to come, decisions
to be overruled.

Leaving it up to imagination,
musing prosperity, free rep, and
formulation processes.

Forte-incredible, majestic,
indispensable.

Irrational deception,
I just about deceive myself.

Flippancy rules the
curse where I come from,
now, baby, give me yours.

Fresh, and tainted are
the milestones of my heart.

There is a
garden waiting for me,

but whose is most like
a desert?

Words that curse,
drugs that bring you
back this way.

People that falter,
and fail to drink
without choking,

or told shut up,
at the funfair, down

street, selling goods
better than me.