The Sun Has Quite The Ego

Heat streaking ego

Let go of it all and let rest easy on…

Over-easy on a sunday morning with a Lou reed record spinning as we play our game

And with much fun the song of the sun shines,

Rising as cocky as ever

And never will I question IT…

But, still the questions will cum

With one answer or another with some others

And

Yes

You- heat streaking ego,

You will go under

And smothered by the bread and butter of your drive of divine satire and while we're at it let’s just back track to when I cried dynamite, breaking the dawn vault

Thought deposit

Full/Empty

of

Room temperature tension

“Don’t mention what's on your mind.

Ice cubes melting with exhaustion

Without pleasure.

Glass sweating.

Better yourself with silence letting

The sound of a blaring fan talk over

Your thoughts.

Heat streaking ego

Let go of it and rest easy on

Bedsheets bleeding pleading for you

To bed in bad memory…

Heaven sees you’ve run out of whiskey.

Hell provides…”