green guru
purple knives
and scattered love
sometimes i hate these spectral transitions
the stars are always a mystery
and not quite as bright as i remember them
but this piss poor beer isn’t half bad
for a lonely saturday night

i’m listening to the grateful dead
but i’m not grateful to be dead
my breathing is labored
and my toenails are hard
the fingers creep
but fail to captivate

i’m waiting for something
though i haven’t figured out
what, exactly it is

i forgot the question
but i know
how to spin this consciousness
towards a perfect oblivion

watching rain in the promised land
and refusing to fade way
in this brokedown palace
i remember the science of
rusty passion
and try to forget
this fascist fatality

midnight is such an easy fuel
i empty the ashtray
and find the fire
as i hammer out this
human indifference
with gratitude
and the manifestation
of spacial abundance

green guru
purple knives
and scattered love
one more night of frustration
sitting alone in this hollow refuge
hypnotized and spending limited capital
only misfits and rejects
know the secret
of this anxious and sacred game