All my action to today
was to be looked at, how insane.
Like living all one's life at hame,
the soul gets tried, the soul's a slave.

The weaning oner is sad to see,
like an old friend, leaves it be:
all the world of soulful toil,
all the riches of simple soil.

How complicated it be to beg,
from door to door, for subsistence:
to become a dog of shame,
following in friendship's wake.

I fear so woe, there I am,
In context - you stand to slam
A varied tow, and so next
Blatant force to subject
I long to tap, so I will
Feel in still yet, gone for the bill
Give it a slap, you cannot be let
Contemplating the oner set
As for my intrigue, fail safe for abuse
Please hear, gasp, your fading loose
Placed in league, I lost a tear
It was as scary in the mirror
Lace, and mask forth, seduction forthwith
Again, an arsenal of lacerations, buried
Masculine-ity
I am so tangible

that swings by
my side. And hangs as
a cracked branch in the wind,
that hasn’t fallen off. I’ve had

men and friends as heavy, that
weighed me down as a levy. Every turn
or twist is a mangled cyst. Ever have
a match pair that doesn’t evenly

wear? If I had an ax I’d lop off
the sad timber. No point as it isn’t
limber. The stars I see aren’t shiny. No, I’d
say they’re spiny.  A hanger-oner

is like carrying an empty suitcase
with the zipper stuck in place that takes up
all my space. And the teeth of the zipper biting
into my flesh as lightning.

very often few
one pill to chew
for what are what to do
pill box swung undo
termpers of fire
ervidence torn asunder
fragrance on line 2,
happy with tombstone given
strawberry wine
1969

shadows block the vorterx allowed
peril in condition
the day I used to go
Albastor with ther need to go
laugh in,
shadows wrerck every season

8675309
to lurk behind a bench well spent
reach behind a living tide
my neice new the score
haunted freom the hospital
marek the oner willing to explore
Caviar sheds ther dial to where you need to go

The smell of aerosol flowing through my brain,
I like to paint,
Spraying on the walls,
Was the only thing to keep me from falling apart.
I walked in the rain; I walked in the heatwaves.
I don’t play, I splattered on pavements.
I have no crew, they call those, the ones.
BIG.A oner
It was never about street cred.
I am an artist, that's what I repped.
Rode the 460 bus, all the way to LA.
That’s where I met, ‘what's her face’?
Anyways, forget her.
You ever had a dream you didn’t wanna wake up from?
Ever felt like you were up in the sky, on cloud nine?
Maybe it’s just me; I’ve been working on this piece since 12:03?
I think???
The one part I hated, getting high off these paintings.
Trust me, never intentionally
I love that about me thank you borderline, for the personality of creativity!
Don’t get lost in the sauce.
‘What’s her face’ called; she said she’ll meet me at the same spot.
I like to paint,
I loved getting lost...