Email Poem

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Personal Note:

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Poem

I wear a Baja Rosa t-shirt with a huge sun on it and look into a mirror disguised 
as a bicycle tire reminding me to exercise
light a cigarette and ash my incense into the three skulls of the ashtray of life
and like the four monkeys of see hear say and do
I swat them away just like flies
the white wax has melted away and the wick burns into the black
the pieces of the musical muse I listen to guide 
the ghost I am 
flicking the lights off and on in patterns as I haunt this ghetto
captured on satellite
through telepathy I control the radio
and above my alter is a picture of a cocktail of prescription pills
but I'm overmedicated to predict my own surprise birthday party
so the monster in the mirror
and the shadows that dance and hide in the corners 
and cubicle soft my mind
twist and coil
in the black light
when I open and shut the doors in the same metaphorical order
a fortune teller
a palm reader
who predicts attacks and world events
leaders spy on my I tell you
and this monster in the mirror
surrounding my reality
is my curse upon the plagues 
\they deliver unto men

the scar of my lungs into cigarettes
the three faces of death as I sip vodka from a glass covered in sheep
ashing my stick of incense as my tarot cards are wrapped in 
the bandages of rubber bands
and the hanged man on my alter of symbology can no longer mind read

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