You've heard this tale
A thousand times,
Take one more spin,
This version's mine.
And this telling tale
Is its first time.
My theme is fitting,
The message sublime,
For the Season of giving,
And gifting one's time.

For my first Christmas
I was three,
But the warmth on that night
Never cooled,
And indeed,
It was
A cold Christmas Eve.

We stuck branches of pine
In a bucket of sand,
That's the snapshot I've got
Of our Christrmas tree then.
Here's the memory that Eve
Of a lad of three,
Yet this story is true,
It's a family heirloom.

We weren't many then,
There was Mammy and Daddy
And six children, soon seven.
Daddy was an Operator
Of cranes and loaders
Dirt packers and graders.
He was working North,
Far North,
Manning a dozer,
Distant from family
Near the Quebec border.
That's where he was
Days before,
When his pant-leg caught fire,
When the diesel was spilled.

We were only three months
In our chosen homeland,
It was 1958,
And fresh from Ireland.

No way to get to him,
Nor him to get home,
No car,  no friends yet,
Little money, no phone.
Yet somebody knew
We were out on our own.

And the snow started falling,
It was Christmas Eve,
I stood at the window,
Saw the snow fill the trees.
I was still and staring,
At what I don't know,
But I remember quite vividly
All that I saw.

Like a scene from a movie
Starring Barry or Bing,
A fire-engine red no-top
Stopped and parked with high beams,
Highlighting the snow,
On that Christmas Eve.

A big man in a red suit
Slid off of the trunk,
Literally carrying a sack,
And calling, **! **!
The family joined me
At the window to see
The big man's helpers
Carry a big Christmas Tree.

When they entered the house
Kevin, Sean, Gerald and I,
Cowered and crouched
Behind the second-hand couch.
We must have resembled
Three monkeys plus me;
I hadn't a clue,
I was dumb-founded and three.

In through the front door
They clattered and sang,
Unloading their boxes
Of food, clothes and toys,
*****, bats and dolls
For two girls and four boys;
And I'm sure there was something
For the coming bundle of joy.

I don't remember their departure,
Or where he went,
But they called Merry Christmas
And left all else unsaid.

Mammy understood
Some good persons had called,
Who'd heard of our plight
And couldn't be calmed
Til they knew for certain
We'd some peace in our storm.

So, that's my first Christmas,
Since then this my creed:
The gift of giving
Isn't under the Tree.

You've heard this tale
A thousand times,
Take one more spin,
This version's mine.
And this telling tale
Is its first time.
My theme is fitting,
The message sublime,
For the Season of giving,
And gifting one's time.

For my first Christmas
I was three,
But the warmth that night
Didn't freeze,
And indeed it was
A cold Christmas Eve.

We stuck pine branches
In a bucket of sand,
That's the snapshot I've got
Of our Christmas tree then.
Here's my memory that Eve
From a lad who's three;
Yet this story is true,
It's a family heirloom.

We weren't many then,
There was Mammy and Daddy
And six children, soon seven.
Daddy operated cranes and loaders,
Dirt packers, graders, and cable drovers.
He was working Far North,
Manning a DC10 dozer,
Distant from family
Near the French border.
That's where he was
When the diesel caught fire,
When his pant legs lit up,
But the flame grew no higher.

We were only three months
In our chosen homeland,
It was 1958,
And fresh from Ireland.

No way to get to him,
Nor him to get home,
No car,  no friends yet,
Little money, no phone.
Yet somebody knew
We were out on our own.

And the snow started falling,
It was Christmas Eve,
I stood at the window,
Saw the snow fill the trees.
I was still and staring,
At what I don't know,
But I remember quite vividly
All that I saw.

Like a scene from a movie
Starring Barry or Bing,
A fire-engine red no-top
Stopped and parked with high beams,
Highlighting the snow,
On that Christmas Eve.

A big man in a red suit
Slid off of the trunk,
Literally carrying a sack,
And calling, **! **!
The family joined me
At the window to see
The big man's helpers
Carry a big Christmas Tree.

When they entered the house
Kevin, Sean, Gerald and I,
Cowered and crouched
Behind the second-hand couch.
We must have resembled
Three monkeys plus me;
I hadn't a clue,
I was dumb-founded and three.

In through the front door
They clattered and sang,
Unloading their boxes
Of food, clothes and toys,
*****, bats and dolls
For two girls and four boys;
And I'm sure there was something
For the coming bundle of joy.

I don't remember their departure,
Or where he went,
But they called Merry Christmas
And left all else unsaid.

Mammy understood
Some good persons had called,
Who'd heard of our plight
And couldn't be calmed
Til they knew for certain
We'd some peace in our storm.

So, that's my first Christmas,
Since then this my creed:
The gift of giving
Isn't under the Tree.

His suit is taggered. Bullet holes and tears but finely pressed and clean. Still recognizable as a cop's beat uniform. He unsnaps his gun holster clip. No one uses the old guns anymore. Electronic laser weapons are the fad in the end times. I got a Desert Eagle .45 that has something these fancy tech-lovers don't. Two point three seconds...

You see, it takes a Lectro two point three seconds to charge-up and that happens to be more time than it takes a 'cowboy-movie-loving' quick draw to end you...

"Hi boys! You've got a Buzz here I see? Well...time to move along and let me buy the next round 'eh?" -I say

"Look, there's a drink shack right about a block up from here. Let me get you." -said with a wink

The three look rough as they all do out here in the runs. That's the wasteland roadways in the inner cities. Least that's what they are known as these days. If you're guessing the futures part of that wasteland you got it right. The last war was the Great War. The one that ended all government. Now we have two realities; the corporations large enough to maintain some order and the publicly disordered nightmare.

You'd a thought systemic breakdown would have released the minds of the many from their company masters but it was quite the opposite. Those left and afraid flocked to join the barons making them even more powerful. I work for one of these new titans; Altria Group.

The three look at each other with queer smirks and grins as if their figurin' on what move to make or perhaps figured it already? The middle one draws his Lectro-gun...bad idea.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

Three down. I walk over them to make sure,

BOOM!

...one last slug in the ringleader's face clears this route. These ******* have been hitting our trucks for weeks from this alleyway. My shots draw out more vermin...Chicago is a mecha for filth. Our heavy operators in the dozer-rigs clear the blockages but it's up to me to stop the vagabonds and hijackers. Only losers don't have a job.

"Well boys you had the chance to take this one to the bar and drink it off...instead you got a buzz still ringing in your ears!" -I tell their dead bodies while reloading my clips

That 'buzz' would be me, Buzziah. I'm The last cop in Chicago. Maybe the last one in America, who knows?

BOOM!
BOOM!

Down go two more ****...I hate sneakies. I lean down to make sure my body cam gets a shot of their faces. I get paid by the ****. My bosses at the cigarette company still want to see their faces for some reason. I never ask, I don't care, I'm just a camel cop...

"Sounds like a ***** joke..." -I say out loud

I know it's confusing. Reynold's used to make camel cigarettes. I'll light one up while my brain explains it for you. When it appeared that the U.S. government had lost control...the major multinational players took action on their own. Some of them, like my employer, they literally killed their competition. Thirteen years later they're the only game in town for smokes, jobs, housing, protection and food...and I am the only cop left. I stop a ****** running by,

"Hey you stop!" -I tell him

He freezes and stares at me shaking. I'm a bit of a celebrity in downtown.

"Do you like the uniform or what?" -I ask him

"Uh-uh-uh man, man just let me go I ain't after your loads?"

I chuckle deeply inside. It is a ***** joke after all.

BOOM!

I turn on my Beats-Sat uplink...

"All clear on routes a-go, all routes a-go..."

Switch the channel to the network Apple link...******* rap. I love it. I catch a tune on the heavy guitar riff and backbeat intro...

<Double forty-fives, double forty-fives>

<YO> -chorus

<Jumped out the War like G I JOE!>

<Landed gig/wid Nort Gruman.>

<Patrollin' my beat as-a-GUN MAN>

<Double forty-fives, double forty-fives>

<BLOW> -gunshot sounds

This feels so right. I hop on my motorcycle and tear-off.

Time for my buzz...

I am the Lord's Strength.

Buzziah Willis...remember it.

I run the streets of downtown Chicago.

I am the law here.

"Wanna smoke?"  He says to the air.

I'm at a road block,
While the clock went tick-tock
This one here is a fighter
He sets fire, easy like a lighter
Grabbed hold of that metal tight,
Not letting go without a fight.
Heavy and heavin'
He lets go to start leavin'
His mind tortures him "Nothing but talk"
Now he's in a head lock
Knees bent, shoulder back
He's a fighter that's back in his groove and sharp as a tack
Bulldozer
He won't go into foreclosure
He never breaks his composure
He'll break through this barrier
Provin to them he ain't no longer a little terrier
But a bull... dozer
And this one here is nothing  but a **fighter

Down at the local bar, there are two chairs.  
In one is a man named Logus,
Who came from The Desert of Nine Valleys;
In the other is a song-less musician named Sparrow.

Day after day
Alone in the bar
The man with the foolish grin
Is keeping perfectly still.
But nobody wants to know him,
They can see that he's just a fool.

He wandered very far,
Very far,
Over land and sea.
A little shy,
And sad of eye,
But very wise was he.
And then one day,
One magic day he looked Logus' way.
And while they spoke of many things,
Fools and kings,
This he said to him:

“Good morrow to thee, brother prisoner!
Do you realize that you have the most beautiful face?
Do you realize we're floating in space,
Do you realize that happiness makes you cry
And
Do you realize that everyone you know someday will die?”

Logus doesn’t want to bother with the bird,
”These are all lies
and jests.”

Sparrow retorts, “Still
A man hears what he wants to hear
And disregards the rest.
Now,
Drop your guard, you don't have to be smart all of the time.
I've got a mind full of blanks, I need to go somewhere new fast.
And don't be shy, oh no,
At least deliberately.

What was I saying?
Oh yeah.
Let me tell you a story that's sad but true,
About someone who just may remind you of you.
Let me tell you a tale that may help you awake a woozy head-
I'll buy you a drink
-It begins long ago on a happy day,
With a fool who was loved, but threw it all away,
Who exchanged a good home for a flophouse, a bar and a plank-“
Sparrow’s eyes begin to glisten--

Logus Interrupts,
“While we're on the subject,
Could we change the subject now?

My name is Logus,
I'm carrying the wheel.
Thanks for all you've shown us,
But this is how we feel.
Come sit next to me.
Pour yourself some tea.
Just like Grandma made,
When we couldn't find sleep.
Things were better then,
Once but never again.
We've all left the den
Let me tell you about it:

I am just a poor boy
Though my story's seldom told.
I have squandered my resistance,
for an existence
In which
Ever anyone discovers exactly what the Universe is for
And why it is here,
It will instantly disappear
And be replaced by something even more bizarre
And inexplicable.”

Sparrow began stirring in his seat,
”You know, there is another theory which states
That this has already happened.
And you lived that,
In exchange for a pocket full of mumbles,
Such are promises."

Logus looks at him,
“And? I am still alive.”

Sparrow rolls his eyes,
“Geez, you know
Somebody once asked, "could I spare some change for gas?"
I need to get myself away from this place."
I said, "yep what a concept,
I could use a little fuel myself,
And we could all use a little change."
Too bad
A fake Jamaican took every last dime with that scam.
It was worth it just to learn some sleight of hand.
Bad news comes, don't you worry even when it lands,
Good news will work its way to all them plans.

But the building's not going as we planned.
The foreman has injured his hand.
The dozer will not clear a path.”

Logus scoffs,
“You talk in maths.
You buzz like a fridge.
You're like a detuned radio.”


Sparrow Laughs, “You'll never be what is in your heart.
Weep little lion man,
You're not as brave as you were at the start.
You have a heart that's full up like a landfill,
A job that slowly kills you,
And bruises that won't heal.
You look so tired, unhappy.
Such pretty houses,
And such pretty gardens:
Green plastic water-cans
For fake Chinese rubber plants
In the fake plastic earth.

There's an empty space inside our hearts
Where the weeds take root.
And now I'll set you free,
I'll set you free.”


They both left right on time,
The Sparrow accosted his mind.
The Sparrow said,
"Hey man, we go all the way"
Of course, they were willing to pay.
Back to the street,
Down to their feet.
Losing the feeling of feeling unique,
Do you know what I mean?

Well on the way,
Head in a cloud,
The bird of a thousand voices
Talking perfectly loud.
But I never heard him
Or the sound he appeared to make.
And he never seemed to notice.
But the fool on the hill
Sees the sun going down,
And the eyes in his head
See the world spinning 'round.
Of course, everyone goes crazy
Over such and such and such.
We made ourselves a pillar
We just used it as a crutch.
We were certainly uncertain
At least, I'm pretty sure I am.
Well, we didn't need the water
But we just built that, good *******.

For most have found both freedom and safety in their madness;
The freedom of loneliness
And the safety from being understood,
for those who understand us
Enslave something in us.

But let me not be too proud of my safety.
Even a Thief in a jail is safe from another thief.
And Horses run fastest on the way home.

Logus and Sparrow had just that in mind,
and so, after deciding to take Sparrow’s ride, they left.
After dragging themselves into the car
Logus looked at Sparrow from the passenger seat,
“I keep myself in
To pull myself out.
I'm rising up,
Wish I was sinking down.
And it's not like
There was warning
We were happy.
And it's not like
There was mourning
In the warning.

I guess I am a scout.
So I should find a way out.
So everyone can find a way out.

I know I am a scout.
I should've found a way out.
So everyone can find a way out.

Sparrow starts his car, the ignition doesn’t turn at first,
It’s an older model so it takes a few tries.
Sparrow turns to Logus,
“Well, that is that and this is this.
Will you tell me what you saw and I'll tell you what you missed
when the ocean met the sky. (You missed, you missed)
You wasted life, why wouldn't you waste the afterlife?

Drift all you like,
From ocean to ocean,
Search the whole world.

And you find your destination
With so many different places to call home.
'Cause when you find yourself a villain,
In the story you have written
It's plain to see
That sometimes the best intentions
Are in need of redemption.
Would you agree?
If so, please show me.

These thoughts and the strain you're under
Be a world child, form a circle
Before we all go under
And fade out again and fade out again

Logus starts groveling,
“Turn me on to phantoms,
I follow to the edge of the earth.
And fall off.
Everybody leaves
If they get the chance,
And this is my chance.

My shadow's shedding skin,
I've been picking scabs again,
I'm down, digging through
My old muscles, looking for a clue.

I've been crawling on my belly,
Clearing out what could've been,
I've been wallowing in my own confused
And insecure delusions
For a piece to cross me over
Or a word to guide me in.
I wanna feel the changes coming down.
I wanna know what I've been hiding.”

His eyes are the size of the moon,
He could 'cause he can so he does.
He’s feeling so good,
Just the way that he does
When it's nine in the afternoon.

Logus starts thinking to himself,
“So you think you're a Romeo?
Playing a part in a picture show?
Cause you're the joke of the neighborhood!
Why should you care if you're feeling good?
Take the long way home!
Take the long way home.

His phone starts ringing,
he clumsily pulls it from his pocket
and answers it.
It’s his wife, para.
She’s concerned,
“Hello? Hello? Hello?
Is there anybody in there?
Just nod if you can hear me.
Is there anyone at home?
Come on now,
I hear you're feeling down
Well I can ease your pain,
Get you on your feet again.
Relax.
I'll need some information first,
Just the basic facts,
Can you show me where it hurts?
Please don't
**** yourself for recognition.
**** yourself to never ever stop.
oh no!
You broke another mirror!
You're turning into something you are not.

Come home!
I'll bake you a cake
Made of all their eyes.
Do you see me
Dressed for the ****?”

Logus chuckles and thinks to himself,
“I know she's looking kind of dumb with her finger and her thumb
In the shape of an "L" on her forehead.”

Their eyes are the size of the moon,
she could 'cause she can so she does.
They're feeling so good
Just the way that they do
When it's nine in the afternoon.

Para continues,
“But you'll still
**** yourself for recognition,
**** yourself to never ever stop.
You broke another mirror,
You're turning into something you are not.

And that's okay

I got a box full of all your pity.
We're fresh out of tissues
Because on them I wrote a comedy,
I wrote a comedy.

Logus looking down,
almost as if she’s there in front of him
to see how sad he feels,
“Sorry, but
I'll take a quiet life,
A handshake of carbon monoxide.

With no alarms and no surprises,
No alarms and no surprises,
No alarms and no surprises,
Silent, silent.

Tell me what to do!
Now the tank is dry.
Now, this wheel is flat.
And you know what else?
Guess what I received
In the mail today?
Words of deep concern
From my little brother:

Logus briefly thinks of a letter he received recently,
“Weep for yourself, my man,
You'll never be what is in your heart
Weep little lion man,
You're not as brave as you were at the start.
Rate yourself and rake yourself,
Take all the courage you have left
Wasted on fixing all the problems that you made in your own head,
you'll never settle any of your scores.

I backed my car into a cop car the other day.
Well, he just drove off - sometimes life's okay.
I ran my mouth off a bit too much, ah what did I say?

Well, you'll just laugh it off and it'll be okay.
it'll be okay.
Everybody needs a place to call their home.
Everybody needs someone to call their own.
Even when you're lonely, know you're not alone,
You're one of us.”

Logus' attention turns back to para.

Para begs,
“Please hold on hope, don't choke
On the noose around your neck
And find strength in pain
And change your ways
Know your name as it's called again.”

Logus sighs,
“Phew!
For a minute there
I lost myself, I lost myself
Phew, for a minute there
I lost myself, I lost myself.

Sparrow,
Somewhere on the edge of the conversation,
Begins getting heavy eyed,
Shutting one then the other and then opening both
And says to himself, drifting into an irresistible
road hypnosis induced sleep,  

“And if you could be what you wanted,
If you could be who you wanted
All the time,
All the time.

And now I'll set you free,
I'll set you free…”
Before trailing off.

Before I was even born
my dad got a dog
A bull mastiff
He was the sweetest
he wasn't supposed to
live past
8 weeks
but he prevailed
he was my brother
he was my best friend
I put my trust into him
He laid his head on me
I was too young
to understand
why he had to leave
now its been six years
and I still miss him
could you blame me
He sits on my Dad's night
stand
in a gold tin
he lies on my dad's shoulder
in permanent ink
he stands near me
in a picture
actually quite a few
he holds a place
a huge one
in my heart
his name was Dozer
and this is for him

Is it cruel to silence a pregnant woman with a dozer
Sold their souls to a war criminal's thirst
Rationalizing every lies with more of them, so kosher
Ask the children died of starvation and thirst
Ever felt threatened by the fire they spit
Lessons never learned, or was it a skit

My home is on a lake
a small thing
almost ordinary
for this part of the world
but my lake is special
it is different
for through my windows
is magic
the sunrise is here
which for here is odd
since we are accustomed
to the sunset of the lake
Michigan, that is
here in the southwest
known for our sunsets
but my house has a secret
we get a sunrise
every day
over our little lake
so much magic
in the colors
the wind
the reflections
my father prizes those days
the mornings where the lake is like glass
so smooth and reflective
it catches every color
as though we had TWO sunrises
and I think it is special too
because of him
but to me
the best part of a sunrise
is that I see it
the colors I could not imagine
stretching as high as I can see
as far as the sky is long
such COLORS!
the clouds of their blue-gray
visible in the earliest light
then the stain of red, like fresh blood
a small, uneven half-circle
where the sun will inevitably rise
it turns to pink
the dawn is coming!
pushing warm colors before it like a dozer
oranges and pinks grace the morning
who needs a silver lining
when the clouds give me wonders?
and when the sky seems to take no more
there is the sun!
bright, warm, glowing, pulsing
full of life, and light, and burning
I can't stare at it, even though it is beautiful
the beams refracting off the water
the light is uncomfortable
as though something were staring
watching me watch the sunrise
so many nights have bled this way
darkness receding as the light takes over
but I never regret it
I know it will not last
one day I will leave here
and never return
and this magic will be lost to me
so I enjoy it
even though no one understands
I do not care
this is my moment
my sunrise
every new day
is MY new day
a gift
the most beautiful gift
and I know it
appreciate it
acknowledge it
because in this life
this short, unbearably minute life
such magic is rare
a mystery
glorious and ephemeral
when it is gone from me
given to someone else
I will miss it
so now I treasure it
so that I have no regrets
because this is my home
the only home I've ever known
a house
on a hill
by the lake
bathed in a sunrise.

I knocked on the door,
it was a silent night.
I knocked once more,
there was no one in sight.

The house was locked with the key inside.
I sulked and waited till dawn was to arrive.
Then the birds started chirping
and the hens with their sing
Woke every dozer sleeping, unknown to my sting.

But yet the door remained closed
outside which i strolled
I was sleepy, hungry
And my head spun like a web.
I cursed the person who defened the bell.

It was too late!

I couldnt wait anymore.
I held my head and walked away from the door.
As i did the milk man arrived
and the dear maiden inside
Opened the door to my heavens floor.

She was suprised!  seeing me outside

She began to question me in this mode,
"What on earth was i doing sitting on the road ?"
Now it did not matter to me,
For i was too delighted and at last at ease,
to see my way into a deep bright sleep.

She's someone who lives in many girls all over the world.
He's someone who lives in many guys all over the world.
The sleeping princess or prince is able to sleep wherever.
They can sit down somewhere and decide to take a nap.
And this has nothing to do with having a sleep disorder.
This is just about someone who just tends to sleep a lot.
Like they can just fall asleep anywhere and at any time.
There are some people who do this and it's not a problem.
They just tend to like taking naps wherever they want to.
Sometimes it might just seem like an interesting moment.
But it doesn't really effect anything because they wake up.
And they are able to be involved in whatever they need to.
I just got this in my head from someone from a group I like.
So I decided that I would just write this so I could say this.

I never knew what life meant,
Never knew where it would take me or what I would do.
Know I know that one persons opinion of you can end it,
Who'd have thought that your words would be the thing that made me realise.
You've been my final release,
you were the dozer that destroyed the walls of deception.
All I know is there was a box of pills and a few cans of cider,
they are the only friends that I have to accompany me on this lonely and cold night.
It's time to sleep now,
My lullaby is over and my head is dropping.
I may have destroyed you for which I am sorry,
But know now that you shall never have to suffer me again.

While I am innocently driving
Headlights approach behind me
That are totally blinding
Here nobody will find me
So I have to keep riding

I can barely see the road
Because the scary glow
Only seems to grow
As it gets closer
To bringing me closure
In what could be a bull dozer

Sweat falls down my cheek
Because times are bleak
When I can’t see the street
The lights and my car meet
Yet I continue moving
As the lights go through me
They illuminate my cabin
Like a luminescent dragon
Disorienting my brain
With blinding pain
On this winding lane
During hazardous rain

The headlights float through my car
While shining like an exploding star
I’m having difficulty seeing very far
The headlights are my vision’s guard
Because my eyes start burning
While my wheels keep turning
I reluctantly resume learning
Shining pain on this journey

Well this isn’t good
The lights went through my hood
Violently twisting metal
But not the gas pedal
So my car won’t settle
As the blinding lights replace my own
Now blinding others feels like home
For I want the light’s pain to be known
So I won’t feel so alone
In this blinding zone

The city is all around us
I hear sirens and horns of ambulances...the police and firetrucks
While herons across the street peck their beaks into the green grass
They are not moved by the sounds.
I see palm trees  reflect the sun while cars race through our non thru  street,
Arbor Way.

Cool winds swirl grape leaves from my neighbor's yard.  It's hot. Standing in the doorway I left my chin up. Rewarding breezes soothe me. I can't wait for the air conditioning to be fixed. That's just the one thing out of everything gone wrong.

A dozen red roses stand in a vase, a gift from the twins and my daughter, her boyfriend too, looking beautiful. There's an unknown leak we've had for years in the ceiling and underneath the sink.   A Bull dozer is on the bank of our canal.

The city is here.

They're dredging all the water and stock piling rocks. The fish are dead and the turtles are gone. Even the alligator's song is lost among the grinding of machinery.

The city will stay until tomorrow. When the herons have flown and the water is high the taxes are blown and the lights are nigh.

The city is all around us.

Paper paper
When you read the paper
There is a bit of news you don’t see and that is the fact that this paper meant we get rid of trees
Trees are nice to look at and
Will be used for the birds to nest in and then some bull dozer knocks them down
So we can get our daily news
I know it is part of life
But overall it isn’t good
Leave the trees alone and
Use the online news
At least then you can read what you want
You could see the stories and
If you click on them
You can hear the story as well
But on the paper is publishers
Writing articles on a substance which was once a tree
Paper paper
Do we need our paper. It really drives us crazy yeah
I read the chronicle online buddy because it is better than
Killing trees for news
Yes, paper is cool paper is weird
But then I use drawing paper
Well it is bad but the world ain’t ready to completely digital just yet but I even write on the phone and one day I might draw here too
Don’t spoil the trees for unnecessary paper
Little bit for art is fine

A heart,
A soul,
A troubled heart,
A wounded soul,
A bleeding heart,
A wandering soul,
My heart,
My soul,
My hardened heart,
My battered soul,
The heart of a lion,
The soul of a bull-dozer,
The heart of a survivor,
The soul of a fighter
The heart of a guerrilla,
The soul of a gorilla,
I have seen it all,
I am a freedom fighter,
I am a Zimbabwean,
At heart and soul.

A  limo parks up in a silent street:
moonlight filters into a hotel suite,
naked a form lies under a flimsy sheet.
A door opens and quickly closes,
furtively to the bed a figure moseys.
Slipping in beside the dozer,
snuggled up, ever closer,
He whispers “Julia, I need you,
You waited. I love you.”
Suddenly the tryst is broken
as deep voiced words are spoken:
“Whose Julia?”
“I’m Julian”.

TOBIAS

Your pitter patter doesn't matter
The maddest hatter's just a quack.

If you can stand her, take a gander
In your stranger's candy sack.

No-one knows her; lazy dozer
Hangs her clothes up on a rack.

Tired of betting, now regretting
Never getting chances back.

My crush made me a stupid house made out of cardboard.

Because she is so stupid, she rushed her feelings, and made a made up world that she stole from frenetic fantasies and little xanax pills.


I was stupid too, and cooled her off with *** and comfy mattress pad because I felt like a badass for having such a badbitch in my comfy covers just because she liked my ****, and was too thick to think about how radical it was do spend all of her love with a crazy bull dozer like me.

I thought with all four of her welfare made eyes she could see just how beautiful and disastrous you have to be to get on the hilt of god's golden sword.

It's not beautiful.

It's dead.

and it's morbid.

ole school dozer
bring dah noise
dont listen for it
awe just as i thought
bunk *** sheep again
yo def ever come
for me or mine
i'll sleep on it

**** the jar  mama keep the purse
Dill pickle the flave is pumping milk
Get him in the factory
He's to shined needs to box more
Tmz out

Ditch the appendage dowry

Zoe needs artillery
Publicity nightmares from the old country
Huffing zinfandel with snouted root face
Abandon ss jenner

Benito the raft! Alone please! No mercy Benito come home!

The nightingales from heaven devour crystobol!!!

Oh I must paint the moons arrival!!!
Our travesty brides!!!
Hide the cost in the furthest pages!!!

Irish poetry saga to
Ladypink nyc