to oh sweet nothins. to
sitting cross-legged kinda
bluesin', mostly boozin'.
desk-liquor now found
floor-liquor, feelin' a faux
pas here. kinda like a hoodie
over sweater, but that's all
some urban legend. digressing
with complete definition loss,
and stopping when called out.
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venturing on when foot snag
leads to caught trip. going back.
about ten and eight times
'round, when the sun was to
be overthrown. of when scree
led to blooded footpath home.
starting points are always
turn mythology, and that point's
Muse haunts rest of followed fate.
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