aimless romantic

[saw]

scribbles turn into midnight
morning doesn't guarantee sense
word remnants, tiny papers
jig jag flashes, is there light
somewhere, do I need to take
out the trash ? always the same
mining for a fix, junkie poet
don't talk no smack, he's got

another problem just as big

uneasiness

discontent is like gasoline
ballpoint pens are flamethrowers
scorched earth can be beautiful...
some days searching for water
forked stick in hand
pulling poems from pies
I'm hopeless.......
romantic

[the mingo]

People don't realize the depth of it but pulling poems from pies is an art

[saw]

thanx mingo...." stuck in his thumb and pulled out a plum and said..................................."