Other worldly turn:
Wax museum,
statuettes,
wait,
dead of thought
one eye mesmorized upon
the craning arc
of laundry spins
Dryers fry high pitched melodies
Mimicking bubbling brooks
O settle, the hum of Mama's lullaby
blanketing heat
6 o'clock quiet Saturday
Ringless
torn expressions
strut, in the encrusted fluorescent bulbs (light)
Folding their bodies,
respectively, like bruised tin cans
Modelin
floured dirt hand prints
stained on pockets,
smudged into knees,
the boldest of coal rouge
Roadside Attraction,
Hop-pause
Clean and go
Change overflow
Toiler USA.
--------------------------------------
Not a dime a dozen
I'm not a repeating,
archetype, of another,
I am my own sing song time
my own happy go lucky aire
I do not subscribe to your
critical mumbo jumbo
looking to critique the flow of
my soul on to my paper
the movement of my hands
outta the deepest imagination
of my child's soul.
Everything is beautiful because it came out,
So remember oh remember
darling imagination
grow with water and wonder
indulge in curiosity and space coastin
----------------------------------------------
Bid me to buy. All nations sing out with one angsty cry.
More dollars, let's print more bills. Let's make pretend
we have enough change for all manner of frills.
------------------------------------
Standing solid
angels trumpet ablaze
I thought I saw God,
in your face that day.
A turbulent beehive broke open
and around the commotion
we stepped
eyes locked.
You unaware
chattered in my ear,
undercurrents of a lyrical flow.
Painting philosophy
through broken syllables,
crooked 1, 2 beats
and the world disappeared
one man
one woman your gaze trained on me
in your force
I stretched broken butterfly wings
humble tounge, thoughtful praise
I thought I saw god in your face that day.
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