Called in to Work

I smell freedom, what would I,

Even do with it, smoke more,

Drink more, I'd be dirtier,

But you know what,

As I began to write this poem,

My dad called me,

So maybe I'm wrong,

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

Maybe, its just a season,

Of mistakes, maybe,

It’s a migration,

Of people, it’s the harvest,

We're just preparing,

For the winter,

I just hope, I'll be able,

To see some boobies.

Martial Arts

And the groundhog saw his own shadow, he immediately exited, he said I'm not a poet, try, being nice, it still, writes itself, forever dreaming, being himself, advantage,

I'm still not, an architect,

I still, don’t want to, explore, the rules,

Why, we’re built this way,

Are you a mountain,

Open hand.

Windowsill

Does the dream begin, what’s active, in the air,

Architecture, some sort of,

Joke, I love you, babe, is magic,

Still in the air, a fishnet, stocks, and fantasy, whatever man, are you,

A mountain fist, a baby,

A little, selfish, a hold up,

I'm coming, an artist,

A joke, a soft pillow.