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

deeply defiant

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.