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riding the public transit, I study the blank stares to answer my questions of how and why drums I got so many drums grey hairs. I take care of the nervous that runs through my extension cord, and I reflect on that reoccurring dream where we met the Lord. single file lines, to give her a pound one at a time but when i faced her- I attempted to embrace her, she looked so fine, I awoke from my sleep before her bodyguard had a chance to beat me to submission drums and I still walk with my religion. I watched the children scurry in circles around a two-way mirror, worrying about which side of the glass projects the reflection clearer. hear the whispers of the wind trying to get me to grin, gassing' me up about the love that I plucked and I've been stuck within, for every eclipse that stares at me from the other side of a paper cup of espresso- I light a match beneath a kettle, and for ever set of lips that become attached and equipped with that program to seek success, i bleed my ethics out a slow drip.
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