Through a glass eye
I pried my stanza rails apart
to find cliched underpinnings
to a well thought out track...
There was sun... there was moon..
there was touchy maroone...
all the colors that served
to smother your senses -
that exquisiteness that's been residing
on the tongue tips of many...
Harmonied larceny -
The idea that if I paint a fresh coat
on your things,
I could market the new and improved..
Or just new...
Either way, flowered fields pouring colors
are the simplest way
to convey I'm a lover of beauty.
But I'd rather show you the charcoal swirls
of a midnight district.
Gambling exquisiteness.
And corner foxes
prostituting vividness under neon spotglows.
Wicked as shit,
Taxi cabs haul niggers and spics
to gangland...
Veins in phosphorescent black
curl tightly around heart corners.
And you can feel the beat of the city streets
make worlds come alive,
where Italians and Colombians congregate
talking business in white.
Money is won.
Drinks and smiles are had
and we all make love
for a night...
Yes, the beauty runs thicker
than designer drugs
and crayola liquors,
while some guy in a top-hat
plays the sidewalk fiddle
of his soul...
and we sit on the outskirts
jealous
and talking down...
Hanging on to our whimsical trees and suns
Before they get flipped the fuck around...
funny how it all comes
so easy now...