Lunacy & Allure
Smog clutters the heart
among the river inside of me
that bends at the break of my split lungs.
In motions of lunacy and allure,
about keeping myself pure
as stones near the mantle
or distant ice along vast lakes.
Like salt filling my blood,
an ashtray of resentment
complied at the mediocre spin of youth.
About what’s real
and what isn’t.
How life drains the eyes
of pardon and little disappointments,
the bullshit far forgotten.
And I drag my dreams from their sleep.