mine eyes stare at the sun cause i haven't seen much worth shit,
the walking prelude to a kiss that does not exist,
clinching moon rays ;hand out the window ;cigarette in fist,
selfish writer who cannot escape the "I" or "me",
liver regaining life from underage Hennesy,
scented with cocoa butter, toilet water, and smoke,
when i die i want them to recite what i wrote,
A/C student riding the waves of youthful confusion,
always allowing breast,buttocks,and lips for intrusion,
carries a pad with him in his left pocket,
around his neck lay a many different lockets,
of late accompanied by a Brazilian,the Joy, or a man identified as Reed,
all sitting contemplating life while their eyes bleed,
fathers face is his when he looks in the glass,
and hes chasing the same standards for chivalry and class,
no woman now; most Ive known hate my site,
so i hold onto the stars and fornicate with pale light,
slim or skinny both claim title to his figure,
the blank expression on his face populates many pictures,
with two heads and four eyes; and half a brain,
destitute of half the signs that he's sane,
many times stepping forward or back from destruction,
every step he owns is light percussion,
nothing too self doubtful about his person,
a cynic though waiting like an old man for conditions to worsen,
speaks too many but revealing to very few,
i wouldn't tell you everything even if i knew you,
face in a book ears glued to jazz and soul,
hes warm at heart when the weather is cold,
inside him dwells an invincible wit,
never too far away from a smart ass statement,
complacent...he will continue