fuck you - it's my poetry

Oh,give me a little more under the shade

Keep pushing those baby blues in my direction

Look!!

There are palm trees everywhere

It must be the center of the earth

A rare collection this is

This landing  path

Centered,so centered the Mayans would be  bewildered

full of comics,rats and painters

I don't hear any words though

beyond the flapping of lips

while watching sinking ships

The jibbed  placenta of sperm whales

So many dreams die on these shores

Would you care to throw one in to the well

A wish

as subtle as a song bird kissing nails

kaleidoscope skies

Burnt orange sunsets

Three days late on the mail rail ways

But yet

It gets better

After you wake and wash away yesterdays morning breath

You scrub off the dew

and pass by a few girls named Zion love suffocating in trust funds and a desire to be empty,soul full hippies

Fuck you,it's my poetry 

not for the masses,and lost in the bottom of glasses

Bourbon that is

I mean it, crayola sultry scribes and bruises

Bound by indifference and indecision 

 

It is a lonely lie

the truth

I can breath trough this mask now

Now that I found lost