city of time
Posted: March 11th, 2015, 8:41 am
I write about what I can see
as I stare into the smokey morning
I also write about what I cannot see
with these bloodied eyes, the ones in my brain
my baby blues are useless in that world,
it would be easier to spit out my life in Braille,
the archives are long dimly lit hallways,
shelving surrounds the walls with tales piled from toes to skull
I like to wander the aisles hands in my pockets
stroll the rooms of laughter, peruse the rooms of pain
open the closet doors, rummage through neural crates
of fading memories, leaf through twisted dusty folders
but where should I start
it would take an organizational savant
to sort out this mess, I'd need
an army of Martha Stewarts to show me the tricks
to point out the shortcuts, I'd need
a squadron of Dear Abbys to see through
all my bullshit, give the proper counsel
without pulling any blows, the sucker punches that landed
so I roam, a cerebral nomad
looking, but not buying, a weary window shopper
with sketchy assets, a loiterer
lost in the city of time
as I stare into the smokey morning
I also write about what I cannot see
with these bloodied eyes, the ones in my brain
my baby blues are useless in that world,
it would be easier to spit out my life in Braille,
the archives are long dimly lit hallways,
shelving surrounds the walls with tales piled from toes to skull
I like to wander the aisles hands in my pockets
stroll the rooms of laughter, peruse the rooms of pain
open the closet doors, rummage through neural crates
of fading memories, leaf through twisted dusty folders
but where should I start
it would take an organizational savant
to sort out this mess, I'd need
an army of Martha Stewarts to show me the tricks
to point out the shortcuts, I'd need
a squadron of Dear Abbys to see through
all my bullshit, give the proper counsel
without pulling any blows, the sucker punches that landed
so I roam, a cerebral nomad
looking, but not buying, a weary window shopper
with sketchy assets, a loiterer
lost in the city of time
