Saturday, April 21, 2012

Rambling Man Pt. V



Sharp like my shadowself,
I hit the Beam
with my face every time
the sun begins it's high dive
flushing everything with rust.
The moon's been peaking down
waiting for it's time to dominate
the ground with an incandescent fist
of silver shaded blues and brown glass.
And I'll change for it, under smokey
bourbon lights and chain links.

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