Those are snow-clouds above you boy…
but you’re at the wrong altitude for them to work right.
-instead they just alarm/awake you while freezing bad pop-songs
to your wet-eyes as you hurry-up pass cafes and alley-ways you once beautified.

It’s a Monday, shrinking empty mouse-wheel world.
Sloshing memories of the weekend now fading-
Ending something, following the glow as I walk him home…
He gladly pays in thick blue smoke for my lack of any small talking.

Dead lain rings through me as feet-beat bellow swallow the hard-sand,
 “wake-up young man,it’s time to wake up…”…there-after,
my insight lends me nothing worth learning kid,
you’re all better-off than I are…

Mobile-phone thumbing invisible knives, left hand seeking hers never felt,
internal dashboard flickering with colours…pulsing with sighs…
bright orange road-signs and workmen melting tar on Sunday-overtime…
smells like my ashen-thoughts that I can’t stumble away from…flicker,flicker, why?

I’m queuing and don’t even know, I’m waiting for this big-ball to spin…in a line.
The number of people I want to know is countable on a paw-
a claw, an extension but not of my mind…
my guts are the size of an ocean, but if you can sort us-out all that can be ignored.

There is never any conclusion; it all just keeps on rolling-
no anger to hold firm, no self to blame or confession worth time forming,
you are what you make you, get treated as you’ve taught them-
what was shards to start will never puzzle, never needs to,

just wrap-it up tightly and apply-pressure to the bleeding...

"..off he goes..." -Pearl Jam