Tired

of taming lions,

of dark, eyeless mileage,

of piloting this wondrous ark,

of you.

of dim-heart-riots

rotting fleshy timber,

of all the cages - rusting through 

and through..

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Another New Year’s Morning.

Smoked and smooth-whisky aged brain with a stab in the right temple.

Start as you mean to go on.

The primary glee of proverbial blank slates fresh starts new year new me           (new you, hopefully)

Rubbing my hands together and over the smooth cream pages of 2021

Ready to splatter in powder paint blue red yellow black pink pink pink..

A Ne...

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