press
this city to begin
portal
scented rapture
somewhere
I remember
the
smell of rusted Sun in the alley
soft
clay, oiled with combustible churn
built
upon, torn down
and
built upon again
ghosts
of horses carry the burden
as
I teem with a madness manifested for more
I
consume to digest my past consumption
and
I keep hope in my pocket
just
to have something there with me
after
the crowds have been fleeced and
my
electric chair stops seeking thrills
to
fill every moment of an empty heart
I
lean against any wall I can
and
breathe because
going
crazy
isn't
a destination
it's
a journey
it's
a heaved-chested destiny
that
says bring my needs
to
bleed with time
and
my desire to burn everything the speed
of
brick and mortar fiefdoms
and
to demand in a false veined hustle
a
willingness not to see
behind
the curtains in the dark
because
I can only crawl in starts
as
I haven't found the will
to
press the stop button just yet
and
because my eyes don't see
as
well as my fingers and nose ever did
EJR
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