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Published: Feb 2006
Beautiful teeth are missing.
You are my pushpin kin,
My blood rushes rapidly
Every time I see you.
Close shaven eyebrows and cap,
Reveal the awesome contour,
A brain plagued by illness,
So promising still.
What has happened?
The height of your cheekbones,
I never noticed before
Show the street your convictions.
Our father has no reign,
Your defeated king.
Your first-born bares the blue jewels
That sink inside your leathery face.
The street is tranquil,
Synonymous with the rhythm your heart beats,
Hallucinations are greater than the ones you own.
Long dark curls lavished your crown,
Long since have they bloomed.
It's easier to maintain in the dirt,
Shaven and greasy,
As are your new 'friends'.
Oils that anointed your fresh fair skin,
Rolled away in the grass years ago.
Shit and exhaust have coated the mentshe
Who gave Neiman's for Chenervet.
Vibrations from under the bridge feel too good.
Your passion is lost to the street
Intrigue and addiction all consuming.
There is no home
No children of your own waiting,
A slow motion cinema of cars and straws.