echoes from the inside of outa here

whitewall speed-spin

eagle wings aflame

chrome demon

screams on a chromatic scale

satellite radio resurrection

Bill Hicks giggles gospel

R.L. Burnside pumps blue mud

 

just because-

my spaceship land-worm

time-slides sideways sometimes

Babylonian scars blurred to

freedom on speed

pine trees bleed green fire

into restless asphalt

Lynyrd Skynyrd interludes

Bob Seger blast

to glory

 

tangled up stories:

past, present future

cross-stitch sutured

by desire

for escape route

backstreets

 

a sojourn inward

back-masked insults 

bound for Jesus valleys

of a slacker Shangri La

 

 

nothing heavy

just a levy

to hold back the black water

mindset hike

pass-blocking hard 

for the quarterback heart’s

prayerful bomb

to anyone

standing on the goal line

that marks a new start

 

but there’s no endzone

at the county line

just another U-turn

to round the grounded rut

that orbits a dead core

 

flip-flopping flippancy

a s**t for peaceful reverie

in liberation freefall

Major Tom drop

 

cell phone sleeps

through a cannabinoid exhale

spirit tides shift

and my world

becomes abstract

art

Reviews

[roarke]

Strange, all this was swimming inside my head this morning as well.... we must have watched the same streaking comet last night.

Bob Seeger, "Hollywood Nights" one of my twenty-something theme songs.... delusional age as it was.

Babylonian scars, we definitely all have them, some are just fresher than others.

The magic carpet ride never diminishes when your helmsman.

[Seshat Nidaba]

I enjoyed the hop-scotch shifting word-play of this, a joy to read.

[joshua deathdealer]

ha I enjoyed this. Well done.