in Chastain Park;
didn't know the moon was pink
until I ran smack into her.
Life is a mistress,
her kiss so sweet,
her lips so sour.
My vulnerability
strong like bull;
my sentimentality
is igneous.
I recognize I am a black cat
giving bad luck to others,
but she is a clover to me.
We eat Popeyes
because we don't give a fuck,
nothing lasts forever,
especially not us.
Started life
behind the starting line,
had to play catchup just to get here.
Leaving for Orlando tomorrow
so we go down to Marlowe's Tavern,
where she can get her drank on
while I do my sober pet thang.
Blowing good boogers
in the shower,
hope it continues.
Don't pigeonhole my past
for I am a different person
than I was back then,
and you don't know me since when.