let
it flame—the midnight hour, the skies fill with fire. like coals like diamonds,
I fell into a trance. the days are fierce, the competition is cold, moving
through traffic—a few too many cigars; lips parted, body screaming, face
angelic—the glow, too incandescent, like vicious in the atmosphere; choking
winds, hailing nightmares, couldn’t stream no better! the purest anxiety, the
block like fury, mashing too many daymares. nuts and bolts, snakes and venom,
the alley is filled with merchandise—the truck captured, Christmas for the
kids, like seven months for the culprit. through several doors, walking my
vestibule, confronting my omens. a sour pulse, a glass of Moet, like the room
is filled with hostility. let it flame—the midnight hour, the skies fill with
fire—a vision in a dungeon, an anthem in souls, running inside like how to
escape! allergic to myself, found humble in therapy, or too much to reach—the fields
filled with frames, a picture to see myself, on bars etching grandiosity—the largest
cake, everyone should eat—wishing over dishes, praying over videos, like I must
succeed! in tandem, moving down Crenshaw, pausing, at big business. human forces, magnets in spirit, to
witness them racing Bugatti(s); turned up, turned out, like twelve-years-old.
the biggest reality, multiple hostilities, like praying to be angry.
