by Kevin Martin

 

isn’t me i trust my lady
looks out for good intentions
tonight near railroad tracks
and good music drank
cider and IPAs
wicked weed
this year very little snowfall
complimentary coffee
last time i took two
hits of acid danced around
nightfall fires that
feed dreams cathartic eyes
which force you to be yourself
stylish all the time got a scar
on my calf one above my
left eye neither afraid or sad
empires that are miles apart
from each other since you no longer
get the real thing as discreet
as it used to be catch a
bolt of lightning be alone
with my head spinning sometimes
you gotta go slow never deny
heart wishes that she never leaves
me again as the mosquitoes bit
twice behind the knee which might
be okay with modern psychology
my pen is drunk eyes tiny slants
that see you in the dark with
open arms

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