Dust off your feather caps, friends
go where youve never been.
There are no safety zones this far away from home.
Not to say I dont strive to build community wherever we go.
There is a dusty treasure map disguised as a doormat depicting where we ought to be.
Where another traveller kid shakes out his sleeping bag,
Blasts off to find rest and maybe even a few full hours sleep.
Just finding another
remedy.
Letting it get the better of me.
Overjoyed to receive another second hand jacket,
Too tight.
I take it custom designer clothes make you better than me.
We all think green around here
Aint that the key.
We can’t afford rent
Is this town fairing under pressure
Or is it sinking faster?
A standard existing code
Musically boxed in living-materialized-perfect scorch in the first degree.
As masses are meditating with buzzed blank faces,
I sew patches of home into the hem of my collar to remind me wherever I go,-
show big town slicks singing up frenzied consumerist fits-
They can’t market to this.
Alienation abandon
I’m so sick of everyone’s end user agreements.
Abusers of technology refusing all who live without this secondary digital existence.
While afraid to look up at what we may see.
The truest of us live freely
Housed in condemnation and atmosphere that rolls like low hanging fog
Bracing winter winds
Another band of crickets
In the living room kicking it
singing out for the lizard court’s king.
Silent for the feast.

Everyone is beautiful through the eyes of
a beast
a needle,
Seeing truth about anyone through this lens-
The state of their hands.
Follow life lines, scar tissue,
Follow the burn marks.
A matter of social habit.
Maybe stop telling stories with my hands while im at it.