Space Lost Space

I'm not crazy, though I split my time, between broken thought and pirate mind, and afloat aloft a sea of clouds, determined to loosen the tie that binds the mellow drowned out frown of a temparate mound-like structure of cumulus white; they scream aloud for all to hear: "WE ARE HERE!" But do not fear the coming night when these mischeivous shades, turn silvery gray, their crows ignite to vagrant decay of the sidewalk's dismay, as they keep footsteps at bay, not faulting those for stepping on crackes as they stray.

I've been lost in this place, center of space, unable to rectify my own withered face, willing to give "save for the grace", a chance to tug pant legs with the glance and a taste, unable to trip to the chaste for the chance at a place in this race. So I move my position to the left, a knee jerking jest to the crowd that knows me best, off left center stage, I pull rank as a blow to the chest, unable to keep up the pace I relinquish my grip, trip and rest.

If you thought it wasn't much, stomach punch to the gut wrenching thrust to the push comes to shove a warrior in tattered scrubs, my words they traipse with a grace along the rug, as I saunter, coat tails waving, top hat contemplating a rest on my head, twice I'd be dead, laid to rest in a carnal dirt laden bed, roses at my ankles, the green matted surrounds, i've adjusted. The wind circled in just to listen, then, forgetting the reason why, dispensed on their way again. It isn't right just to steal breath, tight just to reel of the tenth time you tried to take this from me, your beauty, the ugly, the streaming mind, the unjustified, criminal enterprise, the super kind!

I tripped the fence, the pearls as they thread needle as a sewn tight tread of shoes, as the tear concrete, souls left to step, repeat, forward and moving marching treat, of gum based bottom, gripping moisture as they wick my feet. I adjusted the turn of the cap as it flickered and stated, mis red and mis represented, talons, gripped and hated, mysteriously, thought provoked, and thoughts misstated, agitated, as in grounds for misplacement, ample beats in their internment, steel plated, jacked up high and elevated. Bullets lined the crime, addled and frayed I left, just in the nick of time, out of sight out of mind, but in this new york city line, it looks white, flickers yellow, forgets to turn red and bunks up town for the night!


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