once ghosted, in
eyes we saw it, we claimed it, we died early. reborn, wild out windows,
clowning at the rooftop, upside-down laughing. I spark a cigarette, I inhale, I
see wilderness bleeding. don’t do dumb-school, don’t be naïve, they giggle when
it impacts. so carnivalesque, many harlequins, a man is pantomime—at Spanish perusal,
baby bad as fuck, I want her. I gazed into her, she shot a spike, I lose life
thinking our lives. so smart, so ghetto, so upper echelon—got to love me, as a
Benz out, I used to be a virgin. just one move, as breathing hard, and King Jr.
would have died. I heard mountains, I drank from the city fount, I headed in to
see a psych. so different so rich, at perils in this city. many laugh, they
love the havoc, ain’t died lately. but Love is a scholar, Love is a neurologist,
I’m at it like four weeks—maybe too sentimental, they hate coldness, while
adoring his guts. so bright so early, recite it, place on a blog.
one flirts, got
power, one adores her filth, like running castles, I held her palm, I must get ghost.
used me, laughed at me, it meant nothing. to wonder on coldness, to drink from
ice cubes, with hell gauging my alarm market.
all that shit, all
those screams, all those days giggling over prosperity. I was filthy, so I don’t
condemn it, albeit, I judge it. so sick into a sickroom with sensuality
demarcating women. given masturbation, no way, I keep mouth to self—so childish,
such game, like rain on sunshine—like oil in a new engine.
we close shop,
over a million grams, with Jesus raising sugarcane. so theological, so damn
gone, like looking and seeing it needs to hurt me.
