i’ve got a head
full of LSD fueled fantasies
and a paper bag
full of
pandemoniac poems

i have
old things
useful in their
obsolesces
too many computers
worn shoes
guns, swords, and knives
tee shirts and ripped jeans
spent candles
and dishes from 1969

more books than i can read
cats and dogs
survival gear
bills that pile high
and collect dust
a car
that’s barley held up
a garage
that’s falling down
and a
backyard jungle sanctuary

i have
a few
friends
and a little
love

i work
and i pretend
i’m not a slave
i hate cops
and i
resist the trends

i smoke
i drink
i fuck

i wait for the (r)Evolution

i wear my halo
cocked to one side
and my wings are a bit scabbed

i meditate
when i can
and i
play at
embracing
the mad poet

i pretend i’m
immortal
and
with no effort
i romanticize
dysfunction