Tiny, shredded
Paper hearts
And flimsy
Cardboard
Feelings
Bitter aftertastes
On tongues,
Licked wounds
That are not
Healing.

Souls
Like quiet,
Vacant rooms
And minds
Screaming in
Silence
Aching chests
That long for love
Stranded on
Lonely islands.

dream of lilies,
blues and whites
in their little islands,
flower of the starlight,
flower of the water.

We wish you a Reggae Christmas,
We wish you a Reggae Christmas,
We wish you a Reggae Christmas,
And also some kush.

Good ****** we bring,
To you and your spliffs.
We wish you a Reggae Christmas
And also some kush.

Now play us some fresh Bob Marley,
Now play us some fresh Bob Marley,
Now play us some fresh Bob Marley,
And we'll jam out some too.

We won't smoke until ya roll some,
We won't smoke until ya roll some,
We won't smoke until ya roll some,
So bring dem right here

OH ****, please don't green-out,
OH ****!, please don't green-out,
OH ****!!!, please don't green-out,
That was a close call. PHEW!

Good ****** we bring,
To you and your bluntz.
We wish you a Reggae Christmas,
And a Happy Blem Year.

Maybe you're the colosseum. The code to get through the glass doors is actually just '1954'. You could put up the painting of me at auction, or I could take a cruise from London to the Islands North of Siberia, a stop in a department store in Northern Greece. I stop and take a ride in the middle front-third seat of a older friend's younger brother's car, and force all of them to come outside and see the spider's eggs at Bob-o-Link. Massive cornucopias of cotton walls entwined with silk.

In the department store I ask to be introduced to someone who can take me by the hand and recognize me by my number, show me everything I'll need to shoot a full-length feature, even how I can get to Prague so I can do a little shopping. But the horror of seeing is so frightening, and the girl that I came with wants to do nothing.

I find a little shop selling Czech candies, music, and newspapers, so I try to buy everything but the horror is getting closer. I'm in a lazy Susan, how often does that happen? One more turn and I'll lose my stomach contents and then I won't need anything.

I take a climb up a street that says "Smrzlinu Ahead," but the houses on the street are all either empty or boarded up. I drift in the soccer field, watching my legs, looking over my shoulder. I fall for a pile of clothes that can hide me but are also very soft to lay in.

Another cruise- tropical, perhaps? Somewhere for coy adults, who shed their skin in Winter when their eyes start molting off. Someday I will place both hands into the ocean, I'll dream huge, and go swimming until I start to laugh. One day I'll sink to the floor of the bourn, maybe the same day I wake up and I'm not swimming alone.