I dream about it every night.

I dream about spools of shiny silver string.

I dream about lightning is the music I try to sing.

I know, because I remember, because a lot to me.

I never knew you could see such things when you're eyes don't let you see.

I pasted a piece of my favorite food

on a bit of purple paper that I made for dinner late last night.

I still can't decide it's something that I've written, or something I should write.

I shoved it down my gullet and got in a fight with my ex wife.

Little-me never knew that this could be considered life.

I've coasted across a menagerie of silver skin

It upended my start in life, and led me into sin

So sowing weary worries isn't like it things had been.

Vending favored parties is the grim prospect we're in.

Doo-Doo day

It's almost there

Doo-doo day

It's almost here

doo-doo day

It's right in front of you

Doom is a foreboding

It's almost Doo-Doo day.

I'd been wordy since words were a thing

I've been unhappy ever after in every song that I sing


I've never had a bitter deal not feel bitter in the least

I've fleeced and choked my hope for rent money in the street.

Devastating rigmarole backwards asshats

enacting lackadaisical marshall guffaws

Law enforcement dogs push sugar coated cremation

Led with force, inciting indignation



Pleasant little patties sizzle on my grill

Bluegill fritters fashion out of flour and cornmeal

Make me make sense hopefully

Cementing demented ambitions is fishy business


Dog treats make me look like cornsilk hung high up in the sun

Songs are something frozen in my chamber

Popsicle lips horned over pickle juice

wax paper skin never looks silver in the sun

And then I finally saw what you said I couldn't see,
How much I loved you, wasn't a foreign idea to me.

Pining for that little bit of love you gave
Pickled my heart strings in tarnished golden thread

Darkness gave me glassy eyes
Loveliness is little more than stress on my workbench

I've dusted lint out of my linen pockets and stocked them with candy instead.

Mussy hair makes me care less about why and where
Just disappoint me
Poignantly
And I'll breath it just like air.