you said, “heavy is the head that wears the crown.”

as you slipped it off and dropped it to the ground.

like a moon without a planet spinning ’round

it’s a song without conviction, the in-between.

so we struggle all the while with frequencies

and all the disparate faces trying to emerge.

wisdom calls out, she is pleading in the streets

ere a holographic spectre vibrating out of reach.

“hear me now! hear me now! hear me now!

it’s in your dance you’ll find a spark of the divine.”

———————-

and roll along

now breathe me out

and roll along

flashback of a green hat man

living wild in an upstart trash can

he’s selling bottle caps and breathing in fumes

and breaking banks on a western avenue

nobody told him that hypocrisy’s dead

he never wondered why the mouths he fed

always watered at the sound of a bell

like pavlovian parasites on the hounds of hell

he picks it all up and drops it right back down

just visiting here in this faded town

turning the screws until he starts to bleed

so beautiful are your friends indeed

plastic bags in a smoke filled room

somnambulist dances with an aging ingenue

who’s falling down backward for lack of a plan

and all the sideways cats come scratching again

and don’t it feel so good

picking all the right battles just to lose the war

no matter how much you care the fuckers always want more

still he pastes on the wings with the mayfly shelf life

a deal with the devil in the middle of the night

because it feels so good