I'd hold the door open for you
but on the horizon is a battalion
of electronic contraptions
trying to syphon the passion
from my canyon of Jasmines

I see you sitting there
with a thumb in your mouth
and you wonder why
the words wont come out

What goes up must come down
So push me around and around
this merry go round

Take me for granted
so I can pretend to do better
I promise I won't let you down

I've done the math
It's become habit
but I've never subtracted
If I'm the hat you're the rabbit

Chatty-Cathies with hunched backs
munch on thick stacks of flashbacks
like giraffes itching for their next fix
but only finding the next branch

Little wooden piranhas in gas masks
laugh as they set fire to your mattress
bet their noses will grow like Pinocchio's
though when the questioning takes root
and the water is sold to a thirstier throat

There's white sharks in my cereal
all teeth no breakers straight visceral
Iceberg crowns cracking surface tension
thirsty, circling veteran victims
Beating down doors like witnesses
No wonder Santa mass produced
guns this year for Christmas gifts

If Xerox Xanax couldn't handle it
what makes you think someone
off planet planning planets could

Empty sheets even though
the headcases reminisce
remnants of a commendable place.

If it's half past twelve, well that means
I've been slumbering northbound
for a giant's leap, ouch.

Enough blank face
to chase down a zombie's eek
and still I fail to assimilate
this wool pouch.

Suppose Fury's fangs fixate
on inanimate veins
that would explain this
werewolf gaze I'm harboring.

Too real for the pondering;
A Subspace Wanderer.
You can find me in between
the lines conjuring.