It never ends here
Thinnest spindle of triumph met with…
Gunner where have you been but under the palm trees?
Whistling high and mighty
So they sway, and they sway and they sway
I saw the blood red moon as the rest of the whole god damn herd on Instagram
I saw the blood red moon and the purge that broke from the chocked neck that is sat upon this smallish body
I saw the blood red moon, the deep dish so plain, the unequivocal highlights of her controlled smoke flitting from her uncontrollable mouth rounded like the honey comb
Spitting out burnt stings
Like it ain’t…
silent as an AK47
Every little bird, smile and cheek tossed out of the balcony
Floating upon the airy river outside of your fancy new/old house
I saw it coming for sure that is this vagabonds greatest feat!
Oh, yes, I saw it coming
the domestic bliss hurling cross the sandy dunes
Tuning the guitar, his long black hair, her long black(ish) weave, there was some kind of cowboy hat near the 10 gazillion dollar ashtray, we sat on the baby grand bench back to back
His mustache unmatched
Humming 70’s sounds
estranged memories (
Don’t you think? No you don’t, no you don’t, you don’t think
What would Kurt and Courtney think?
I saw the blood red moon whilst hearing the faintest cry from the ivories bones
Skeleton upon skeleton
You mentioned that your new/old fancy could too, be my home
Where my full belly would rest safe
Close to the ready fueled rocket ship
In the layer cake, the Liberace embraced.
Connected like Siamese twins
My “room” sat next to yours