Woke Up
Like honey that drips.
Honey that mind is blown to bits.
Money that slips into minds of wimps.
Honey that binds fingertips.
Honeycomb is that dial tone. Honey is never coming back home.
3+3=5
The ongoing investigation of destination lay-low.
Years ago tears will flow.
Post-Jim Crow
Industrial relations of hair growth.
2021 unknowing north face bummy.
21 year old with an overgrown tummy.
Horns blown forgetting who they care for.
Grandma raises a glass, cuz it might be her last.
Parasite cost more than a mega bite.
Quick Draw
The writing of our generation.
Written down on this sheet of paper.
Brief words yet compelling.
Not too much to say though.
Looking around, Christmas is near.
It doesn’t feel like it.
What’s culture?
Good question.
Culture is the asphalt we step on.
The now.
Hear that horn?
That’s it.
What’s next?
Death.
Easy one.
Rebirth.
We are born to die.
To be reborn to die.
Next page.
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