i’m waiting for something new,waiting like glue, loosely holding together at the seams, filled with dreams of mushroom fantasies
new women, new wonders, every day superheroes,
and as i write this my cat is walking across the table
ignoring my pleas, fragile paws, on paper she steps up softly rubbing her for head against my scratchy goatee.
cats are fascinating beasts
i love to sit and watch them
the curiosity in their eyes is soothing
they strut like true anarchists fulfill love and rebellion
if the gods have any decency they’ll send me back as a cat
in the next life.
now where were we.. ah yes something new
the big cities are zombie playgrounds, as cryptographic gangsters sit low in their junkyard lofts, waiting for….opportunity.
i carried a gun once
i watch the sun set over the moon of a forgotten golden harvest catching stolen stars in its wake
i remember making giant paper airplanes in math class and food fights in the cafeteria,the bad boy crew, not so bad, just bored.
history repeats, time like jagged circles and always a black cat sits what waiting.