the state don’t

night-time the city groans the street she’s made of skin and bones metaphorical of course the trashcan luminaries glow come closer girl witness the yellow flames doing the mambo

the eye fixates on chewing gum chips greens reds blues and whites tanned by side walk bacteria to look like leather lockets

a lonely saxophone sticks out at 7th he sways low and high traffic its ventriloquist serious things do cross my mind not just my trivial troubles

electric gadget old time store shows moving pictures all day long but i think the state the state don’t own my color divisions revisions im fed 24/7 of multimillion dollar fist and knee hustling heroes of the people

the moon flipping me off the feet trudge through the tunnel’s mouth a dollar here a water box there three cups of coffee a Jesus pamphlet a drug lord stare the woman bleeding a call for help an argument here a stare down there and the toothless guys use purple flags to wipe their asses

the state the state you don’t own my color my truth is mine and we the we don’t really clash  the state don’t own their color either

i earn my bread i pay my share to keep the oval circus going but so do they of every hue and be aware that shadiness comes in every tone from every corner of the globe machine don’t use those kids as fodder

i want to be who i was born to let the children go so state the state i feel your scorn but fuck you you’ll never own my color if polished sand ceilings or jealous sisters end my ascendance here at least i’ll die knowing i fought my way with opened eyes and steady brush to take the hands of everyone and paint the tinge of human love inside me

welcome back tonight

welcome back tonight you sad and pale wolf moon

i thought we were through
pacing and sinking i wrestled you out
only to find you in my heart
why do you come wolf moon unmovable fool
you are a life sentence
when i got born you were there to receive me
when peace took a powder
both faces of the clock urge me to tell you
welcome back tonight you sad and pale wolf moon

will you stop my doubt

i’ll keep pushing you outside
let me lie alone by this brook of dwindling despair

Billie with her lamenting mouth around midnight noon
“I’ve got those Monday blues
Straight through Sunday blues”

welcome back tonight you sad and pale wolf moon

sitting on rooftops you toast your light

on my wild girl hair
with my fingers cramped pull up a comet
lay your silver fire on me

don’t hide away after our tasting
who fell into whose clutches
welcome back tonight you sad and pale wolf moon

rarity

little green cactus

kneeling in the sunlight

coffee soil all around

its white pot-bellied pot

heart calm palms dry

no dust storms in the lights

crooner serenades me

tells me about the days of wine and roses

that have left an unclear life

thoughts dawning

eyes drawn into a book shelf

toys pictures memories

rubbing elbows with Buk and the Bard

while the cats purr the moment away

still my heart calm

arteries stretching out like tiny arms

shut my eyes and wonder how

i can be happier