zig zag burns

in ancient tongues the sun remembers

reflections on the muddy pool

grainy, incoherent at best

aglow with forgotten lace trimming

she falls... an ember fading

holier on the inside

mystified as Judas Christ

walks among beggars for personal profit

i'd known it once or twice

retreating skyline, battlefields of nothing new

anything other than radio silence

the static be goddamned, crackling between

a broken mirror stood upon, the ugly me beneath

he's convincing

hollow enough for a second listen

and i'm caught in the blow wind

picked up and thrown

into dialects, too many to translate

i'm f****n' freaking

would you give twelve cents for that?

and it comes in a rush like LSD

some days i'm absolutely necessary

a hero to save her from bad men and madmen

boredom, perhaps... she knows it

i'm cool like the end of the world

sometimes final, sometimes laughable

Author's Note

ah, the introspection that only smoking a bunch of pot by yourself can give.