I met someone as perfectly imperfect as me
as all poets in this community
leaves and trees, stones, sticks and bees
some broke bones and fell from thrones –
through this I know I’m never alone
enjoying solitude walking LA with drones
catching buses and trains walking passed
lines to bars and clubs tired and hungry
with no ends to drink or grub no time for love
until I fell when I shouldn’t have fallen
some commuted and I drove
to a friend’s couch I call home
so rise and repeat sleepwalking corporate corpses
worshiping money was destined but funny
to drop out of grad school to come back
to a place that serves heart attacks
so I got comfortable and made it my habitat
now some dread I’ll stay
to fight my fight this way
quiet and subdued with fire inside
for those who want to test
the rage I can only channel but not hide
surprised to see I’m still alive
jokes and all it was meant to be
to forever write about
a phoenix in stride
running from the past only to fly
as there were jewels among the rubble
analyzing sales freaks in this office bubble
mixed with ignorance innocent as pawns
danced masterful techniques of fraud
some didn’t see what I saw
because I’ve left this plane
and traveled where souls go in the interim phase
as misguided professorship was the next deluded craze
first and foremost I’m always a writer
leaving the jargon to academia
to those it was better suited
who’d probably get too tired and get me booted
annoyed at future neck tatts and mystic antics
provoked then confused fanatics
maybe one day some will return to study
but for now this hood is second home.
NEW LEAVES ON THE OLD TREES d.i.s.c.r.e.e.t. 