Just call me Alice
in Wonderland. And you can
be my Mad Hatter.
I’ve got a stream of conscious thoughts, they’re running away. They’re running in the right direction more everyday. I used to feel like I was sinking with out a boat. But as the rapids settle down I’ve learned how to float. Want a chance to take a moment and reflect on this stuff. Got the man back that I can’t have, somehow still not enough. Take a walk this evening get picked up, not running away. When I confront the ash and dust, there’s nothing to say. I got death in my and life in me both at the same time. I got poetry and ecstasy, feed you that half rhyme. Take a spin on my four wheels, helmet up for two. Peeling out of my backyard what else can we do? I hope you’re stoked it’s not a joke the rhymes that I say. I’m reaching down deep in my soul, get carried away. Collecting thoughts like broken lighters, barely a-fire. Plug me in I’ll hook you up, how live is your wire? Round again, I’ll count to ten we’ll start it from scratch. This is never bad, these dreams I’ve had are starting to hatch. I know I cough, you’re running off, afraid it will catch. But I still give hugs, don’t need your nugs, I’ll grow a new batch. I’ll plant the see but it’s not weed, it’s flowers in bloom. I can paint a picture with words without leaving my room. In quarantine, my room’s not clean but it’s still a place. Urge to expand is in demand. Not showing our faces. It’s not about where you end up but what your mind chases. And when I get back I’ll start a stack of crazy newspapers. Reading those headlines my eyes in blinds I clap my erasers. A cloud of dust and glass and rust, it’s all making scars. We’ve lost our dreams, dopamine streams, and beautiful cars. So we’re all on edge, we’re at the ledge of here and alone. No holding hands they broke our plans, just throw us a bone? Not drunk now but debunk the rumor of traffic cones. If we stay in lines and count our dimes will we sit on thrones? I’m all done with it. Yeah, fuck this shit it’s time to sign off. But I’ll still take hugs, I’ll catch those bugs, I’m not getting soft.
Filed under Poetry
The home of poetry
Poetry from an English Hart