Outstanding Fines & The One Cent Mind

Outstanding Fines & The One Cent Mind


                   connect-the-dot thoughts
                   falling on rocks
                   fingering condensation on glass
                   muttering small-talk real fast
                   slipping in mud
                   like a pig does the same/
                               so here's where all my spare time's been going,
                               straight down the drain.

are you through with all this treason?
are you settled?
are you satisfied beyond a reason?
take a moment to assess this mess
perchance upon a simple circumstance
stick with the stereotype
& ride it like a motor bike.
gargle with salt water
beg, borrow & barter
your way into a quintessential suicide
crumbled in a tuna can with you inside.

where are all the good ideas at?
where are last nights dreams all hiding?
blame it on timing
& a poor memory
it's a shame & sorrow
we must greet with every new morrow.
awfully terrible
but it's not completely unbearable
because, god-willing
they shall be back
you never have to worry about that.

can i sit down & do this every day?
can i seek enlightenment upon everything i say?
it seriously seems so/
terrible & o,
how i know.

                 a dirty thought was all he sought
                 there was no heart for him to hide
                 no love deep down inside.
                 he was a scoundrel in the foreground
                 a puppy no one wanted at the dog pound/
                                  he was bitterly mellow
                                  shallow & cold
                                  an uncontrolled flame with no name
                                  & sickenly bold. indeed,
                                  i didn't care for this translucent fellow.

                                           make the mandelin dance, my good man. i wish to be
                                           treated with happy harmony like a parasite in the thick of
                                           sweet cheesecake. tis true we choose our own fate, but i ask
                                           that you choose mine as your own tonight, before the hour
                                           gets too late.

                just because you get a bad haircut doesn't make it sabotage! just go climb  
                into a hole, embrace your inner spirit & pardon your soul. i'll come back
                looking for you after they turn Mars into a parking garage.

                                                              is it all nonsense? is it all just make-believe? is
                                                              there really anything left to retrieve? if so, then
                                                              please give me leave to read philosophy, so as to
                                                              calm this curious curiosity.

 i think you hear me & i'm nearly positive that you've poorly defined the carte-  
 blanche theory. it may be so, but i'll never know. i feel rotten to the core & a
 complete & utter bore. how long have you been pretty for? when'd the sun start
 shining your way? o, please tell me, dear. i'd just like to hear you say.

                              "can't i get some privacy in this damn mansion!" shouts Ben the
                              Billygoat Brag. he was a self-made man & strikingly handsome,
                              all thanks to his dad.

                      need a new tale to unfold
                      i need something new, something bold
                      something to strike meaning
                      like it's never been told.
                      but where?
                      but why?
                      where do all these stories lie?
                      in my head or in my eye?
                      so very hard to classify.