flowerpot

my eyelids are turning into raindrops.  wash me with sandpaper and put me to sleep.  the nights are football field long, and i find myself in the middle of them, walking.  

never talk to strangers

as i am walking down the street, there is a man in a third floor window.  i look up and smile.  he says: "what the fuck are you looking at, dude?"  i keep walking.  people are good, deep down.

obituary

i hope they say i was a crazy sumbitch who never listened to anybody, but loved people like the way mountains speak, and was one hellof a dancer.