maybe after the critics go to sleep
and the lights are out
and it's the land of a thousand sweet
unbeatable nights & accidents
you'll come thru the bloody roads &
and bleeding cold-cut streets
killing Chance & killing chances-
coldsmoke & superego-
And burst
While time usurps
& avenges us-
like fighter pilots cutting thru
gust-
Side with me
lets go undercover in James Bond
superlatives & blanket tents.
And I'm addicted to the sound
of love & the wreckage of-
Counting memories & humming
like a blue bird to a song only I can hear-
worlds and maps and medieval fables apart-
although u live a shortcut away. I am
counting memories & collecting this
burning venom & these diamond nights
sailing the seltzer waters
On broken limbs-
and .10 blood