i like the beauty of my last slice of bread soft angled fresh complete i like its humility and the nourishment it feeds me my days are short the nights slip through my lashes and my mind but the blessings are endless when horizons are gone words are rationed and wings downtrodden
it continues the heat the history slow as fuck although it was a good day WAR spilling the wine through my ear canals petrified by the bullshit of LA but i love her the only mother wife side whore she saint i could die for otherwise i too lust and look after those unwitting complicated boys of Porciuncula in my day dream i fancy i am like William Allen or Johnny R pragmatically im just a xitana malvivida
dull the sky amid smog sin cocktail
thoughts blunt against my skull
drink without soul
noir talk lady cries
her man is always right
yet never is he there
crescendo music hear her cries alone
on the sidewalk
on a night like this which is all the same
my glass runs under still they eyeball my keys
do gooders young and haven’t lived long enough
to feel to feel to feel
sometime during the birth of a new day before cackles and moans from all of the earthly species blurt to the urban sky, she dreamt of an apocalypse on Prozac diagnosed as fake news. maybe we should…was what she thinks she said.
not sure how to process validation she proceeds with caution it’s the season of the silence once more…
blood rush through my veins
restless bound to wandering
i the seed of Cain
my vivid flag lays
only today at your feet
your lips on my neck
i chose this card for you
you chose this life for me
America
we dance and laugh
we crawl and weep
America
i love you all the same
you’re not sure what to make of me
America
we are on going revolutions
we are pacific sisters
America
i watch upon a most psychotic rooftop
you direct the wind of our commotion
America
we in destiny
must not manifest infamy
America
words less spoken 