blindly walking
to the end known
the only purpose really
is to get lost on the way
too little and
but too little
a stray doesn’t always have to be
hounding the thought that I once knew
as I single out the one
misfit calamity
sprayed in the face
bouncing to the what
oh no how does that work
you ask in a simple phrase of innocence
but when you spell all the words wrong
how am I suppose to understand
south further down to north
as the summit of our lives
cold sweat drips down
circles and the lovely face we once longed for
washed away in a sea
moments of recklessness
spent at the downs
waving away the past
into the desert scenes
barren and full of dust
not so barren when full of dust
I guess
but who am I to question
water trickles down
a mountain so small
steps leading away
to the past of your skull
matter leaves and so does sight
grass grown plowed in the dinosaur heart
calmly lasting
and running through
all the pictures you have collected
night sky angles
reflect off your eyes
into a perception of guilt
nauseated dreams clouded
ring smoke
walking down a murky street
with nothing but a thought
so close to the answer
but sill
not sure of the question