bereft of ideas,
I go sightseeing
just to see the breeze
and keep my heart
away from the outcast knife.
on the boulevard,
a beautiful brown man
trims thorns from roses,
and hands them to a woman
behind him, behind a counter.
dirty aprons, empty wine bottles,
delivering get-well-soons,
and I-love-yous
for tip or two
in a good life.
this is where I confront my fears,
Hot Pink Alstroemeria and calla lilies, minutes last forever,
and then I am on my way,
in a good light.
I’m in the mood to be a tulip,
Give my life
To the zoo cycle,
A walking (away) bag of music,
To know better but.
Give my life
To the zoo cycle,
A walking (away) bag of music,
To know better but.