gimme something different
conversations
with a distant
and misunderstood maiden
honest and lost
in tropic thought

right now i’m lost
in a middle aged haze
shaking hands with
a rusty cigarette lighter
and a rambunctious kitten

kicking country stars
illuminate
hollow boxcars
should we wander
random reservoirs
and embrace
more nonsense
written and discarded to the wind
as wine and grateful dead dreams
relieve these fluid fingers extremes

uninterrupted by life
let me stray
into this glorious cutaway
as i disobey
and downplay
this imminent doomsday

untitled 1
and a rusty gun
writing misfired puns
as the devil laughs
and answers questions
i was afraid to ask

art is lost
in the heart
of misdirected
disaster

should i sleep?
some say i should dream
but what’s the point
of all this virtual paper creation?