Nonsense
Declare me as nonsense,
Your deaf-eared head shaking
unstrung with disorder
dusty cobwebs of bent thoughts
--and a paltry two cents
(I know what you really mean though)
“my $0.02 > your $0.02”
Truly rich men need not admit such fears,
for their wallets only open
less the close minded
Our solace seems born between the dark and the day,
beneath the fullest of moons
=spun of white silk and dust
But today's clay breaks asunder--
Blank checks like yester's echoes
painting freedoms amongst the longest halls
each hardwired in a plethora of words ending in some form,
of hateful [-ism]
Yet I manage to only hear one voice
the voice that tells me to be kind with my rage--
to rip the paint from the walls with talons draped in silk
to dine alone on these sharp tasting thoughts of vengeance
One rose with a hundred sharpened thorns, my mind blooms--
and forgotten be the thoughts that deny my good sense,
to only listen to your two
July 26, 2016
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