Wednesday, February 9, 2011

White T

itsy bitty little fears

like the son, I might care

slim case of tall stairs

they came outta no where

to quarter off the area

no clothes no sneakers

no heart or aorta

stripped bare to my ink

not to some place

but out of the brink

that manhole cover

no longer in the dirt

I think

I'm the fuck out

to find some threads

that match my worth


wade in wine

up to my waist

glasses clink

and crack

slide the mirrored edge

along the side of my face

I open up like an

envelope apostle

sipping the holy grail

an occipital skull bone

all the dark red alcohol

flowing thick as molasses

out the back of my glasses

in them jars of clay

thats where you'll find the rest of me

that's where you'll find the pedigree

toking on my ashes

pass along the flask kids

when the bottom dry

that my time I'm gone

I'm the slurring in your speech

smoke rings from you's

pouty lips they fuse

dissipation since the breech

not unlike me to say the least


ya can see the blood coming through my
stitched shirt

mer de noms rustle like my white ears

perked

as I bite my lip shank back the tears

yea it hurts but I been bleeding

through my fresh gear for years


finger to my forehead

finger to my chest

finger to my shoulders

left then right respectively

aware of my mortality

still I go without a vest

I'm askin' for prosperity

through what's them means

I don't know man

but I ain't askin' no questions

so whateves it be

thankfully through zipper teeth

these scarred up knees

reverently we blessed be

lordy lordy

what's my next test?

where's the swagger you meant of me?

reminding myself constantly

lest I let the better g

stumble and FORGET


http://soundcloud.com/poeta-1

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