crazy legs

keep your hands in the bush

in the bush

                  in the bush          i died tonight

waiting for the whales to sing

inside my ears

via

earbuds.

                                        and now you

                                        are watching me

                                        write poetry

                                        on this side of the

                                        page

waiting for me to return

to zero.

here i am... nugget.

golden fish stick ticket to paradise.

oh my god i think i love you,

please hold me

the way

mommy

would if

she still

existed.

it's been made aware to me

that i am unhinged      by some of u here

even by the man himself        Lord Blevin, i cannot confirm

                                                if real poets

                                                care about dill dough pickles

maybe sweet & sour

crazy legs-

the new thing, maybe not-

maybe the only thing

we really want

when drunk at 2 in the morning

is insane posse poetry.