The pin

Tucked away forest with a devil eye

Moon shelter

Glasses on

You fake dashing man

No mistakes accept picking green from a pallet of green

Flip flop feathers on an empty bed

Whose next

Dead shoes hang but limbs tangle

Between rocks

Kids play with the papers

Life is scissors

Oh but a game we weave

Better to play

A liar moves to Hollywood to turn tricks

Maybe buy a cafe

Quit coffee yesterday two years ago

Taxes live south

No accent but its stalking me

Some vintage 50 cents on their shoulders

They don’t shine shoes anymore

Delivery again

Box shortage I read

Get whatever you need in line

Wait in line

Wait

I’ll take them over easy baby

Not you though

Brother told me I like it hard

Weeds growing outside somewheres outside

Ear hair too

They picked me up late 

Jazz starts the 8 slot

Faded by noon

Sober like Fred

Doorman friends last a life time

Messages are dinosaur clouds

Virtue rising