just noticed my fly has been down all day.
no wonder I have felt weather on my dick
and old ladies smirking at me.
uh-oh this week as the year ends.
my bridges are breaking down systematically.
but at least there are stars still up above.
my gangster Puerto Rican barber knows me.
as Harlem Hip-Hop Ryan.
and he reschedules to this Tuesday.
eating road miles and snow for breakfast.
what's up with the hoodlums in Orlando?
I leave this life behind for fright.
beyond the laughing sky.
I am always aware of the saliva in my mouth.
and so I take off like a train in the convicted night.
like the fist covered in blood or love.
my worthlessness is simple.
Sunday's are for heartbreak, so I go.