ongoing project not done yet

Gonna go months with a mouthful of gonnas,
‘til I get a good jaw on you.
I won’t even bite a bit of skin
I’ll just save it all for the mosquitoes
to tattoo their red map upon
and just gibber jabberwocky,
sleep softly

******

I can’t even remember my dreams anymore
And you look at me as though that is some
kind of problem
Well fuck you, okay?

I never was one for real words
So allow me to quit rapping that poetry pipe.
Lets just say your words make me wet


******

And oh the rusted tops of pick up trucks.
Musta been a hundred and one suns that day,
And you
all stupid in the eye with gold spun tales
of a thousand well worn punches where people love you so hard
they hafta hit you.


I don’t know
I don’t know
I don’t know

Y’all

******

Maybe all words are just a song:

If his is dee dum dee dum dee dum.
If hers is diddy dum diddy dum diddy dum.
Mine is dum dum dum.
A dull drum.