Monday, April 6, 2015


Immature clouds, hovering above
In footsteps of my misfortunes,

Untuned guitars in the wild

Secreting aligned tones.

I walk unparalleled,

I walk out front. 

Each piece in anticipation,

Alone on anonymous turns.

It is an unsung winter,

Dissolute fog will dilute everything.

Unwanted progeny of my mind,

Unsought inclination of my heart.

And it’ll be dawn at midnight,

Eternal, immutable, opulent and one.