I skate-out
doing like 50 aside an Impala bouncing like music. so much more affliction such
next of kin as we debate practicalities. a plural man a mystic man a soul is
confused. such monotheism such meaning in a title while living is a miracle. I space
into a dungeon I break free with a drink I arrive at a bridge. I see us
laughing barbequing on a freeway flipping chicken. such graffiti such artists
while it hurts to be boss. the candor of disappointment the awkward
conversation or happiness in a necktie. each axiom is a problem, every
consensus is bias, while I judge others based upon where the group is at. so
inclusive so tendentious a walking contradiction. to think in direction with
everything for others this is a bit unbelievable. there must be a motive, an
impetus, a coming together. but I skate-out slamming through the gutter-lane
swooping to the far left. so many at us so many tripping while a man just needs
to succeed. like a slingshot upon a table, to imagine it works, but it must be
applied. or crack laughing, while drilling brains, where it moved with
assistance. a bit sad to say it, while habits are in dialogue, as I take
another guzzle. elicit diamonds those talkative gems into a paradise looking at
bodies. so infused while so medium where most call us flat. the scales churn,
the antiques burn, I’m headed back to antiquity. so spotless so clean, I don’t
absorb that feeling. it was hell to speak it was pain to reject it was normal
to put self last. a bit of a paradox, just follow above, while we never fathom these
things: a man lifting a car, a woman loving out of sympathy or a person skilled
at affections. true virtue as in truer diligence while we make mistakes. I look
up, time slipped away, the skies are dusky. like twilights like losing while I never
touched the golden sunrise.
