• Sitting down I rest my head
    Am I still alive or am I dead?
    I can not begin to feel the intrusions on my soul
    Empathy rain and lovers toll.
    Black magic voodoo
    tied to a chair
    Falling forever in a looping pentagram
    Flowers talking and pencils smile
    Rabbits run and go no miles
    Big head genies
    talking to the dead.
    charismatic swing sets
    and slides of glue,
    caterpillars smiling
    and rolling around
    Beatles dead
    and creating sound
    painted clouds fall onto my eyes
    smoke filled rooms cover my cries
    colors of kaleidoscope dreams
    mixing in with painted wings
    Drab ensembles
    and mod like stares
    flower children
    providing care
    criss cross streets
    and a few good beats

    Flowers in his hair
    towering over the glass butterfly
    perfect cream and skin of white
    lying on hills overlooking night
    sweaty lovers entangled as one
    nightly cries have yet to give call
    rocks of music and sounds from clay
    people dance the day away.
    lovers for all
    music from none
    But that’s what happens when your one.