Touched By Madness
Touched by madness, I go dancing
Through mental mind fields,
Down valleys of time.
Finding neither rhyme or reason
I season my dinner
With copious tears.
The girls, all naked,
Whirl like spinning toys
Through smoke and noise,
Just out of reach.
Unimpressed
I drum my fingers
I’ve never given away
Dollar bills.
Squirrels in fishnets,
Tighten garter belts;
Gangster rats chomp fat cigars.
I may be crazy;
But I’m not stupid;
No way am I walking
Down that alley alone.
Call me a cab somebody
Tonight I am flying home.
Copyright © Ron Porter | Year Posted 2010
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