Statement
Help me
I don’t fit…
27 floors above
reality.
It is
red
green
orange
blue
black
white
beautiful
and
false.
Observations
1.
Blinking
red bricks,
rushing
pulsing
emergencies
and
I drunk
at a sad
table
as if
observing
bad
television.
2.
Seven red eyes
one blinking
cyclops
tower,
flashing
authority
lights of
arrest
and
resulting
new
sad
life
progressions.
The Final Plea
Poetry…
please
deliver me
from
this bitter
conservative
cigar
steak
cognac
Scotch whiskey
Republican
puddle of
a life
I
have
fallen in
among
these gentrified
winter streets
THE MIND ATTIC 