On The Road Across America:

Here the skies spread open like a prostitutes legs.

I paid my worth by dreaming of the clouds.

Clouds that hung in this sky like…

Here the skies rain heat, pouring into my

Open sweaty palms as the clutch at the

Steering wheel, but I only have one

Direction to steer: against the wind.

But steering opposite of such is like

Arguing with my mother.

And it’s too hot to argue.

Afflicted

The burning red sky casts shadows upon my glossy prison window.

In this room smoke dances on the walls with utter indifference

To my weary bones. I sit contently, hunched in my red plaid

Blanket, shielded from the monsters of my dreams.

I yearn for sleep, but cannot find a thing to rest for.

Part of my melancholy, I am sure, is due to this want of a

Companion. I am not necessarily lonely, I am too tired

To be occupied by loneliness.

Who do I always feel so damn old? Physically I’m

exhausted. My hands stiffen at night, when it rains my

knees ache and at night y back and neck are sore.

My mind races with ar too many memories for the years

Under my belt are far to low.

Currently the only thing that brings me happiness is my music.

I am either writing songs, playing songs, listening to songs, or

Thinking of them. The music is not primarily the stirring aspect that

Drives this obsession. But the lyrics. I no longer write as I once

Did. No essays. No poems. No pictures. All of my creative

Phrases and haunting expressions are painted in the words of

My music.

I rise and fall like the tide,

But all I want to do is sink alone.

Collect moss on the bottom so I would have

Something to make me feel complete.

Silence

I am sitting by my window

It is a glorious day

Someone is flying a kite

Its shadow dances, like a flame on the grass

Its rustling wings sing to me

A paper is caught in the winds

It circles, like a children’s coloring book

The corners of my mouth tweek

What is this?

My eyes slant

Getting wrinkled in the corners, like an old man

What is this?

A breeze escapes into my window.

It touches my face, like a lover’s caress

What is this?

 

A smile.