Ode to her flannel shirt.

The dark horse screams.
The water mimics me.
The sunlight keeps us clean.
The night time keeps us lean
For what.
Inside of me?



Garrett Johnson.

Ode to being gone.

I was riding o the high.
when the voice sank.
Muddled
& confused.
Reaching from unknown waters.
Beds placed in orders.
& disorders.
Wrapped upon a red vessel.
A girl.
Placed out of Her known waters.
& subtly coughed upon dining room tables.
She the contender.
She the rose no marry.
She the lovely wearing flannels in bed.
& she to touch the flower within your soul.



Garrett Johnson.

Fireplace eyes.

Flower girl in open café.
With exploding yellow dress & cute short hair.
Sees the look on my face.
Smiles & Says nothing.
Standing curious fixing a scratch on the wrist.
I Stand outside trying to make sense.
Filling classical glasses with fog.
Distant but sure to say something.
Spotting an invitation that'll be sure to be groovy.




Garrett Johnson.