Abandoned Malls
I was staring off into the water
Looking for some undiscovered colors
Like a blue that really wasn't
But it wasn’t any others
The synesthetic cousin to the
Hum of his discomfort
I been a punching bag for
Some truly deluded garbage
Now his handshake is a unicorn
His hug a moving target
Dark days either sparing change
For the square pegs
Or in his fav chair sipping on bear mace
Tripping through his daymare
Marathoning monster flicks
Zombie in the stale air
Logging his Hayashi pics
I been trying to teach your kid to ollie
She got the basic motion and glow
When she show her mommy
I get they want the hows and
Whеns of water cooler powder kеgs
That shit that get your saintly favorites
Ousted from the power grid
I know I know some shit about some shit
I guess that gotcha gossip simply isn't
Part of how I live
Skin cold to the touch eyes open, no pulse
Diagnosis in flux
Traffic in a mad world mad world, whereupon
Often times the body spit's the
Spirit out and carries on
To engineer some semblance of a normal life
Yours and mine then of course it's normalcy
Where paranormal’s normalized
Normal is a phantom force that
Levitates the forks and knives
Or otherworldly parasites that quarrel
Over portion size
Hit the floor and you could be
The next unfriendly energy to organize
Ordering corpses into the chorus line
Best friends and death beds red cents
And headwinds vs one man who's ten men
I bubble to the surface legendarily imperfect
Purging Slurpee from a head that
Turns incessantly in circles
It's concerning
My psychic likes to focus on a orb
And tell me how she sees me coming
Home to goldfish on the floor, in perpetuity
I been sleeping in my
Armchair, taking weird walks
And speaking to folk who aren't there
Skin cold to the touch eyes open, no pulse
Diagnosis in flux
The same alleys we used to imagine Babylon
Feel like abandoned malls overgrown
With Spanish moss
Commotion froze in time with no sign
Of your lamb of god it's a land of the lost
Scrambling for canned applause
Damnit, rip the bandage off
Rant or panic if you must
Any way you manage it, the plan
Was always pick the cuffs, eventually
Fixtures who were questionably prisoners
And ventured out
Now we're never anything but visitors
Spent the winter sitting pretty on
A sleigh to hell ok to look away if you need
To forsake and save yourself
It's underneath what's underneath the dungeon
That layer of dysfunction
That ain’t for the weak of stomach
I freak an Archeology that
Reek of repercussion
If you need to pick some pieces up
Come dig a hole to jump in
Light sleeper, I’m a fighter, I'm a feeder
Earth, wind, fire, water, aether
Skin cold to the touch eyes open, no pulse
Diagnosis in flux