Franz, what you ask,
The burden you set,
Leaves me pondering,
The human regret…

My Max, you don’t understand,
What I write by head and hand,
Is me and mine, and goes with me too,
My life is too sad to stand…

Look Franz, you will influence beyond,
Metamorphing, trialling, castles in Amerika,
Your eternal mirrors,
Existing now, and afar…

Max, you know I must die,
End me and my work,
I beg you dear,
Me and this, all lost in the dirt…

I will not Franze,
People need to know,
Your work must sparkle,
Rhyme, rhythm and flow…

I won’t rest Max,
As you deny my wish,
I’ll never have peace,
There's no rest, when me they miss…

Weigh up for me Franze,
Other’s joy, at your distress,
Woe to deny them your vision, and percept.

You’ll suffer Kafka, to the end,
but little matters,
When others gain,
with you, fading tatters.

Daydreaming witty memories that sailed smooth
While real time Lord Quas the unseen plays, beaming
Me back in time, Marty McFly draining the east of oil
As his engine gave out; such a silly scene your ****** features in the neon paint,

A picture of chaos, toned dance (canvas for the shadows to ballet upon)

That morphs back, eyes hovering kissing nose goodbye
and whole expressions metamorphing to resemble a trillion milliseconds bygone--
Hauntings of you so long ago hook at
Your brow like spiderlegs thru sac--
So many days where I could happily live forever, so many days
Spent
by
Your side, buttertea on the slow days wasting time on dominoes.
I'm taking care of business, as they say; green is bussiness
The faces on the pennies we skipped into the wishing fountain on our first date
Probably wouldn't recognise us.

The world seemed much more coherent a few years ago and I'm running
Out of options but I'm standing my ground because its fight or starve.

But how we stick and strive because in your face I see a mystical mirror
That reflects me truer than any glass could.

I kiss your skin. I seal the deal and think to ask you to marry me

But it's too late
at
Night. My hair isnt neat enough and I'm not familiar with this part of town. And how very out of place I would look

Neath this ***** neon that turrets
This precious moment we waste contempt




in silence.