Found but not lost

 Clouds raining sewer water 

         a week 

after period flow

that passion & bloodlines

 in the drop will

re-affirm the fertile soil 

gives birth most lush when blood 

is shed and excuses 

puddle in the fields

Familiar city landscapes with

gibberish fluent song singers

Standing up to apparitions 

that inspired minor scale 

notes

The praised begger seeks

    Sympathy in front of an audience

that clearly see down in the distance of

his lost direction

But all he’s focused on 

 Is to ask them “I wrote my greatest, please read it.”

postSCRIBE:

   To 2 conflicted supporters,

My cynicism and adoration go out to you.

Paranoid kisses