to practise a kind of common sense now would it make a difference medication domination exaggeration death of what we used to be for good bad or indifferent what is it in the seed of them that twists them this way would i know if God instructed it have you ever screamed trapped on your own dream while the glass walls shattered in your castle beware it could be real this panic that i feel while getting pushed into the forest
broken heart
my mechanical
pencil lost somewhere in a
box of dead letters
eating my words [i]
masonicos 1932
sanity
old monkey
sunshine of my heart
companion of my dull soul
make my spirit rise to the rouge skies
green vested like a tree you are so dear to me pink cheeked noisy silly boy only voice of reason in my head when everything in my news screen turns red
emancipated bird
these days some short some long these nights redemption lost taken somewhere far on the beaks of three little birds
when the mind is placed in a certain situation we recall and cherish when our feet were our carriage like when we shared my only bed
and holding onto to what we had was all that we needed being devoured by the light of your energy
but all i’ll ever have are those three blackbirds you bought when you went away
doin my part kinda
dear postcard
i am here on Hope street in a liquor store its open because its essential outside is a sickness it’s been here all of my life remember when i was young and fearless and unattached now i’ve fallen in love with life and have everything to lose my priorities have changed so bloody much i ran myself into the ground now i’m dying to break free dear postcard with the ultra blue ocean pearly shore electric green palm trees and skinny bikini girl with exaggerated tits remember when i was young and my freedom was a tether to a wild wild road now reluctantly i am here masked ten miles from my home gloved lying to the cashier about needing sanitizer and candy bars fiji water and a box of cheap cigars for my diabetic neighbor the sickness deep in my blood hypnotically stares at the bottles in the case here at the crossroads again postcard i write on you a note for help living one day at a time has become a slippery hell
LA girls can channel A. Ginsberg too C19/2020
their bodies as tired as my mind are a conglomerate of recycler rim shop churches and everything is gated and stifled as the spirit of the child i’m looking for chain link fences rent free beautification of Western Avenue top $ cash paid open we buy metal Medicare Part D appears almost as much as “Jesus Saves” i’m in on all of these treasures that no one takes the time to look at i still cannot find my girl i always stop at 13 seconds i ask
Iglesia cristiana el remanente fiel testimonial Cathedral and Christian school Church of God in Christ iglesia pentecostés primer amor next to the color TV by RCA motel that is open 24 hours Sermon on the Mount Bronco motel on the corner of Western and 55th United African church marked up by the 55 kids crew and all the horny husbands whose wives are left alone demand a price menu for my most exquisite lipsnight flows cold nerves exploded at the tips Chinese laundry out to dry the sky the stars turn off one by one and birds are sinking under mud blue gods of the century turn west and all along the mountain lightning stops to cry the purple mud dies on the day of war maroon worms climb up no legions loom and the resurrection is postponed because of my ignorance
that is cast over the horizon of sanity
and the expectations of the rules
these chains are only invisible
and a prayer will break them through
the secret in plain view
in front of those scared eyes
the more decent we become
the harder they will come
truth continues to stay stuck
3000 years ago
evolution in an isotope
is not the way i go
brussel sprouts
pine table size 3 wine toned Mary Jane’s from Roebucks and Sears
chair aged and rubbed faded in all the places Sherlock Holmes would investigate
faded Levi jeans holed at the knees fixed with a Wonder Woman patch
Tupperware plate off beat psychedelic green and she sipped her hootch from fine bone China
blue eyes to me liver and onions gold chains on her cleavage and one scrambled egg on her rye toast and butter
Starsky and Hutch were fixin’ to start and those damned brussel sprouts between me and the screen
then the neighbor comes by and they both lose their minds over some CBS scandal
now is my chance i run to the trash flip up the flap and in goes the midget cabbage
and i watched my whole show practiced the Huggy Bear victory stroll while celebrating my four year old courage
words less spoken 