There’s a thousand square feet
of lush green,
still I sit down in the brownest part.
That’s me though
all guilt trips
city sounds like
streaks against the streets.
my lines are crooked
like my steps as I burn
jays while I’m walking
it’s too early
and I’m too surly to
be bitter
more sullen feel so solitaire
as the drug takes effect
heats on
I can feel it
faded picture yellow in a
pine box
my dreams then same as now
life in exchange
for the weary
ill take yours through
observance me this
dime store hoodlum
costume the same as
always I’ll be wearing the fat guy suit
and the crooked face.