1/4/11

A Thousand Hides

all the empty pages
with what i forgot to say
and too much time untouched by nudity

and all the explosive beauties
my nasty head kept caged up

oh what is this
just another day gone slow
with no theatre lit show or
a single sound of encouragement

i start with putting on black boots
and so i stand lost in a spacious look

i dont belong here
every lock is letting go
like a rare bird
i am no longer chained to a sky

if freedom is a feeling or state
where is this place

in a nine to five alarm clock
a maybe million dollar wallet
a pocket change pouch

or is it in a family tree
where leafs dont trip they fall

maybe in a lovers ice melt eyes

i say freedoms inside
in a place that has no space
but just the body bag

in mine maybe a big heroic door
no need to take off my shoes
i will be swept off the floor
and guided to a poppy field paradise
with Papa Jack mad on whiskey
and all my favorite poets drinking black tea

life's to short to sit sideways and cry
this is why my face is wrinkled wet

im going to leave town with a wild fuzz back
in a jean jacket jet

ill have no expectations
just questions with no answers

like a boxcar on a tall peg leg
towering through Jasper
and its fine pine eyes
ill sing a silly old song to my mother
and hope it will remind her
she had her head in a cloud
and ill build a poor door
until i turn hero
and save myself

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