reason and rhyme passing each other on separate trains that eventually crash... everyone dies

radio man sneaks the slow to die fusion, fade

right into your head

trip to the one lap LP, tip top bebop drops

kiss the cerebellum

soft

and she stands on the wing of the 266th Avenue bridge

stands like the aftermath of a late night caffeine bender

remorseful and awake

she says you can have it if you want it, it's probably worth the same

you nod your head

she likes your answer, she asks you

where you got it

she's mommy to her baby, baby to her mommy

she ain't anything else

well, did she get what she came for?

well, nobody knows, nobody wanted to ask

and she smokes a deck a day, lets 'em linger 'tween her fingers

black paint chipped back oh so careful

till she's strung out past the bus stop, concrete drip down

waiting on the number twenty nine direct to Louisville

says it's gonna change the world

yeah, when she get there

her eyes bombed out the glass, regain their color

chilling in the minute on a hook from the headphones

and she booms, she bursts

she blows up the town

and she booms, she breaks

and she's outta there

she booms, she bursts

she blows up the town

and she booms, she breaks, and she's outta there

subtle like a day in September when you watched her

scream like glare through the windshield, talking 'bout

Romeo

and where he fucked up

bitter like the wind as it stumbles, still her

dime store philosophies lumber on like dinosaurs

sold on well trafficked street corners

and right up front at cheap pubs

and she looks back at you and asks

"hey man, can you get me outta here?"

her voice retractable

flitters off her lips while the butterfly flutters towards the riverbed

imminent collision with skyward dandelion seed

dives and crashes, spectacular explosion while she sings to herself

"can you get me outta here?"

she sings, yeah, more towards the outside world

towards random little girls and their mothers

and their mothers and then

softer now, she breaks herself... barely audible

"nothing

have i given time

seems to me there's a lot of road left to be traveled

seen the cities, i prefer the towns

like a smile from the friendly Mississippi River people

Tugboat, tell me the meaning

where's your glory? who controls you?

Locomotive, could you stop and pick me up

and put me back on the tracks

where i belong?"

Reviews

[deeps]

This is really good, I like your writing style.
Like the title of this.

[Christie Moses]

Your writing is amazing. It seems to have gotten even better since I read your work before. I love how alive it is.