Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

My throat feels like little monkey hands are choking me
The little tiny black fingers
The expression on its face

That snake swallowed a Mouse and went up my spine
That mouse got stuck in my heart

There is a child crying in my stomach
She wants more of everything
The grown up is plea bargains for a cigarette
Martini in cuckoo s nest betting half cigarettes

The woman makes blueberry cake for the child
Tries to suffocate the grown up with weed
The gamble is how long can you postpone the inevitable

The cigarettes the cake the coffee the weed

Walking that titanium toe around town.
Sculpture is one of my words
From learn Spanish with Pablo on Spotify

The crying
The death of an era
The ability to sleep
I’m not so worried about that stuff anymore
But those creepy feelings kind of come up
That wow I was in love

Look back and see
My life is a convertible t bird in 1957-8
Dry desert cactus Palm Springs life
For an infant that fell from the sky
Into Hollywood
Somehow
That stuff got messed up

covid is fucking with my mind while i write this and consider a lingering death.
been symptomatic about a week, if not for miraculous medicinal crutches i could,, would not feel motivated to write. my non medicated season runs on #2 diesel and semi nude people on a bus, such roads i have travelled

i am just a driver and i pray i take no one with me should i die behind the wheel like my father before me. I can pee straight half the year because i try to follow the rules of the road, thanks for writing your poetry

Wild poem...I like it !

jana, fabulous poem.

jack, oh no. take care.
both of you, still creative

hang tough jack
sending healing vibes in my meditations.....