.

Even the good music,

It takes you mad places,
And along those places
You’re still seeing the good and the bad,
So it’s
.
Cosmic all the time,
Or back to the machine,
Stasis known only in surrender
And life one precipice
After another.

I slipped,

And dripped,
And a year went past
Where I didn’t even make a sound,
Didn’t wanna make the wrong one
Didn’t wanna look out my window
And see faces of hate
By the same old tennis court,
Half the time the enemy coming in exotic
So I don’t even wanna play…
.
But now I’m back,
Volley up,
I got a day off and could
Line everybody’s soles with gold,
Cadding mixed grapes in gorgeous helpings.

There’s Donald Trump’s face again…

I can FEEL my superiority to him,
Every time I scroll down,
Imbibe his current activities,
And fully digest
All the labyrinthine aspects of his current wrongdoing —
Cognitive ground like waterskis,
More fun for the thin sloshing,
Breakneck speed and black-knob madness.

One more time around the sun

Is when we dumbly stare
Instead of creating something fiery
That we have in our bosom,
Which is why we admonish it,
And send it to our asymptote eyes
As it dissolves on the spinning ceiling fan,
So much of what could have been laughter,
Laughter.

We are in a frightful world, today,

And it is a hungry world
That draws your blood
And prizes it up to prisms
For the empty orange coloration,
.
Everything, always,
Defined by the lethal moment
To crown and shred icon

When you heard those hungry rumblings,

That was this Earth,
Things to forever stay here suspended
As night for the love bearers,
The bright eyed young babes
Strobing the dance hall,
Happy movie nights
On a Saturday,
You,
Truly.

That rapacious divinity is still

Mixing with the watching gods from her,
I see it because it is so paramount of life,
The only thing real,
Animal teeth digging into skin,
Where “soul” was some compromised reflection
Banished from the sports fields.

To meet a new being,

One that doesn’t know my sin slathering,
Has immobile chaise, immobile face,
Contorts over to see me and smile
With blue eyes,
To be this person,
Looking only at the ground and
Demystifying
The shiny period
Should be a splendor
To mark
Out harmony on a B flat scale

Rock music is a way of ever changing people,

So people who want to be changed,
Gravitate to it.
.
But nobody can give too much,
The giver gets angry,
There
Under mounds of flame.

When she sees us,

Like a tigress,
We behold what is
Hopefully a new era
Of joy and splendor,
Which shall emanate
Off of her blond hair,
An effervescent
Canopy of bliss shrapnel,
So arbitrary in jibing
With our own confusion,
Which dissipates in
Full effect of sneers.