Slick as Tarmac and Half as Nice
Location
Conservative flifloppers tackle
warmth,
Declining hugs and scratching their
heads.
Are you mad?
Directly checkering and victimizing
isolated grasshoppers.
Gone AWOL,
walk to the bus,
Don't want to be late.
Close the door,
slam it in their
Face, hopefully
It'll break their nose on the way out.
Highways clamp open to sunset
boulevards and rainbow sprinkles.
Why, hatred, now? I
Hate you!
Waging war against nouns
GAH!! Life is just
Coffee and Instagram and waking
up.
It's missing alarms and anxiety from auditions
And never being good enough,
apaprently.
Let sleeping giants rumble through
the hay bale maze.
Mom makes lunch,
Brown paper bag-sandwiches.
But we both know I'm not hungry.
Vomit thoughts to left-wing galaxies
because CRISES ARE ON-GOING!
...am I going on?
The scray thoughts, real
business experiences
A lone survivor but maybe...
Should I have died with them? Why
was I
Shunned and told to spin this cotton
Wheel. Why?
Play Chicken with the Dodge.
70 miles an hour down the vacant
sidestreet.
Maybe if I throw myself at the last
second,
and just the right angle,
it'll all be fine.
Make everything alright?
Maybe I should just join the circus!
I mean, I already walk the tightrope everynight,
made all the more dangerous, a
bottle of vodka
grasped in my hand.
What's a safety net?
Big leagues are just small dogs, all
fighting for the singular food dish.
WHIZ past the destination,
Mission less possible than you think
it is.
But mission equals death? Or what?
If I am a constant (state of
depression, rage, suicide),
and auditions are the real variable
reason for irridescent blood eclipses,
Then what is the final conclusion to
my attempts?
What answer can solve all my problems?
Purple, because aliens don't wear boots or hats.
Legitmate pain for all,
A free for all of nonsensical classical
romantical logical lonely
pain.
Shine for all you're worth, morning glow,
I believe in you.
But who believes in me,
Like I believe in dragons in subarctic
tundras?
No one,
apaprently.
Throw my pencil across the room,
My hands shake like a blender
similar parallelograms suddenly
even less important to me.
Can't I jsut follow my rainbow?
Strike it out as lightening strikes the
land?
Arch generational teleprompters
coming to a grinding halt on the
seashore,
Turtles with elephants on their backs
flying through space.
Shouldn't I be strong enough to turn
sand into glass
Or break out of the crystalline
cocoon?
I don't need this axe,
But maybe I could make sense
of the trees I chop down.
Maybe.