Unstrung, unsung, dagger eyes dig
deep into the, I don’t care.
Burning brains and buzzing bones.
Chins on tiny violins of grand design.
Hung above a marble mantle.
Flowing in recess of gaslight dreams,
at home alone once again.
Some kind of cheap Voodoo, exhaled, unexplained,
3 eyed beasts up to your ankles in toothy grin mania,
up to no good.
I feel, I fell, I felt all the scars.
Evolving into outside corridors of
the mind in g-force unmeasured
with radiation madness blues.
Barebacking an atom through space, time
and back again.
Hidden spaces between sleep.
Faster than Halley’s Comet hopped up
on cosmic cocaine in the black hole nose
of a galactic star pimp waving a flag
atop a foreign moon’s mountain.
Damn these little slices of death,
they make no fucking sense sometimes.
Most of the time . . . all of the time.
From my new book, Cosmic Alchemy, coming soon from Cajun Mutt Press.