Knocked down light poles,
Stuck-standing inside the road-crack
Busted pipes, roofless shelters, shapeless vehicles,
Dead air in every breath you take
Milton, Ian, Floyd, Kirk, Audrey, Bob
There’s a reason you are my exes!!

Hurricane

I got dem B-Side blues,
perforated shoes
of my own design,
off color flag of mine.
I got dem prescriptions,
I'm passively shunned
by the typical, 
like it matters at all.
I got dat bizarre brain,
patterns I contain
automatically
run 'crash.exe'.
I got dat problem child
run rampant wild
here within my ranks -
what deserves thanks?
Nothing at all.
And everything.
I know this well, now.