mirrors

like a blanketed illusion for a magician eyes
a synopsis for a lifestyle filled with alibis
a diluted form of living drawn for rat like mice
you built the hanger for your backbone hung with fishing line
and to say the least, that's fine by me; for a midnight conversation
toned by plastic teeth and those rabbits pulled from hats - straight to
their dying breed, they licked their chops and died alone from all the
poisoned tea.

it all gets lost.

the motion of everything tangable in an untangable world of dreams

my mood. somber like morning yet sharp like a fresh cup of black coffee.
my feet. they're uprooted from this lonely world like old broken fence posts.
my soul. tattered as torn sheets on a laundry line.
my heart. it reads blue, black and red.
my eyes. they're as open as every book they've never laid eyes on.
and me. i'm just dancing in the shadows of these oh so manufactured lifestyles with these silk skinned bony fingers transcribing my thoughts on plastic keys to this oh so hectic world.

the pulse of this dancing city

imagination station.
a park bench and some autumn wind.
wet pebbled concrete.
yellow taxi cabs.
the last pedals of a late summer rose ground into the sidewalk.
aluminum street lights flickering in a gray sky.
large medal green dumpsters surrounded by lakes of urine and malt liquor bottles.
business class heels an black umbrella and a hounds tooth jacket.
sewer caps steaming.
pink and blue neon.
bird shit.
flags.
and the pulse of this dancing city.