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raining halos like a bottle smashed glitter ball
the good hydro hangs in the hair
swilling from the shadows
bitter like the good shit

i find her narcotica eyes
and take a hit\

dreaming is free
i live on a frugal plan
fuck the world and leave me six
im sick of hypocrisy
teflon tongues
ive scraped up
and patched up
the night work
feeling the burn
when the sun turned

and you wanna hang in
my world
my hungry ghost
chewing gum stuck
to flyers
like tri actor horse shit

smeary realms
all alms and arms
and fresh paint

how i loathe the rain
feels like tears
the scathing ridicule
the shame and pain
books and dirty looks

but indeed step into my room
as i crash in yours
compare the story
and sharpen this wit
this lore
if it helps you kick in your doors
standing tall in your flip flops
on the rough sea floors

cotton candy perfume
and pink paint

i put you here
because its tired
and its late

and the fresh summer mission
board is new
clean slate

gotta book it in the morning
read the weather for storm
send a text
to my angel
keep it simple
try to hang low


Editing stage: 


Great stuff! It was all over the place and I can dig it.

What I love about this one is that its kinda crazy, keeps changing and doesn't necessarily make a whole lot of sense from first reading it. But that's just the thing, for me it doesn't have to make sense. I go back to Kerouac a lot, for example in On the Road there isn't really a plot, It's just some guy making his way across the country. This book almost has no point, but the way it's written lets us live in the moment of the narrator. I kinda see that here. I can get a glimpse of your philosophy, the way you think, what you observe, what your looking for. The poem keeps changing and I keep living in that moment. But that's just me being me going off in my strange ways. I apologize if I have confused or just don't make sense. It's hard to explain whats going on but not hard to feel it.

i had these alphas....the driven ones who just went for it....
i was i went into the bars...
met the women in high school..
did my own shit for years..
went to parties..met some very nice women
along the way...
met some other wack job artists
running the roads...wild people
the story people....chapter one..
to chapter fifty...nice people
okay take my shoes off..
dont swear
dont talk aloud in public
jeezus same people who will
back their suv into your shittrap
in the parking lot if you got ahead
of them on a happy friday
same ones sneering at you offduty
and that goes for all....
never considered myself a dean moriarity
and ive met those....driven with them
in the hopped up hoopdees

small town newspaper kid....his sister dug me
but they had to be snobs..small town right
kerouck..i walked the roads scavenging tins
and they wrote he wouldnt last five minutes
on the road.....and you had to be a tax payer
and have a legit adress to write his paper..
make a was crazy but i couldnt
believe that just walking can cause such a
concern let alone driving a caddy cross country
with a crazy person either...people..

kerouak played football..tons of rules and protocols
sexton came from tons of money and went on her way
loving living and having her hard go of it....
its not easy....words are cheap...but putting in the
authentic feel and heart....thats hard...

i swear you gotta be a stuntman and women today
all the times i got thrown under the bus but i took it
because i threw enough people under in my time
so wryly i go with it....

i could write different..

he strode into the bar and locked eyes with his hottie
the strobe light flashed the dubbeat
the room got hotter
he pulled her outside like a prize
and the rain drizzled waiting for a cab
the crowd matted and wild
lubed up with the booze and

its a free roam adventure

and jack issues
i had to fight through mine
much and still
but its not a great haunt
and i kicked one habit

your last line is awesome
you hit the nail on the head..
you got the whole point of this

thanks much!

author comment

I much prefer your published version to the one above in your comment lol, stretching out into the ether there are other ways and other words and some of us will be lucky enough to find the unique, it seems to come oh so easy to you my friend, and of that I am envious lol hugs

the machine gun rattle
of the rain
the hot chick steaming
on your brain

of course your always going to tell it your way, and its my favourite way, of course, smile.

love Jayne x

("Always and Forever") - (Never lose a holy curiosity.-Albert Einstein)

after awhile we become as public as a figure as can be....
library today...thirteen minutes running down..
i like the fast runs sometimes..
on a mission downtown and about the little city
im well enough to walk the miles...
enough clothes left holding up.
money tight as always..

pleasant cold overcast day here....
perfect poet weather...
the lighting shows all aspects of the
city ..shadows..landscapes and moods
of its inhabitants...

thank you for the comment..
writing in numerous is the easy..
the rest is the struggle like all..

and for that i am grateful..

thank you!

author comment

like that line...against the hip the steaming from...
a girl..a want on the trigger finger...this lonely linger...

it does come easy after awhile...letting go of conventional
shit makes room for the random..out there..

and all others fall in......

loved your line....machine gun rattle in the rain....

author comment
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