with a foot firm on clean ground and
another in the ocean,
stretch fingers clear and
hold back hold back- am i really so
rusted out? this
salt erodes
my corrosions,
nobody will
make sure i've got
any vital sign
and still
can't figure out how to cry.

sharp wreathes like
all these 'could's hang,
thick like enveloping
void or city walls or
another jigsaw port i bind to:

why are my insides so
untouched yet torn in rend? i only
feel in whispers from the other
side of an endless warehouse, or
in railway spikes driven through
the side of my skull.

wound down, held back,
and made of iron filings,
wishing for nothing but
nothing.

all these hours to burn;
still, it is i built of but scar tissues.

Bring me back to all my friends
To muses mixing color blends
To pulses keepin' beats in sync
With drops of chemicals we drink
To stress and strife corrosions
In these sensory explosions
To the sonicbooms of full bloom shrooms
On smash bro's in these livin' rooms
To kickin' it and gettin' lit
And puff puff passin' on some ****
To spittin' game and droppin' brains
Like profane, urbane hurricanes
To rebel, hippy liberal arts
All splattered 'cross our shattered hearts
To worshipping no God machines
Still sleepin' on my LSDreams
To representin' generations
With my squad of X-mutations
Turnin' up, no comin' down
We lifted 'til we hit the ground