A Tumble Through Words

Black cat scurries past one and sixteen years,
The prostitute fades behind neon moons.
Five feet of fleeting steps, hopefuls and fears.
White noise drowns her name under ghostly tunes—

In an old hometown, where I failed to dream,
Freedom is a breakfast food to devour.
Perfume for you, but it’s anyone’s scheme,
ballads mourn scholars in the twilight hour.

Will you teach a… When, if beneath this sky?
What, stopping, hugs the earth, than silent is?
I imagine me leaning into why,
Two little “Whos” crafting words out of fizz.

Infinity’s connotation, sharp—dull.
Light going out blinks bright before it blows.
A clown’s smirk lurks inside a baboon’s skull,
A man among thieves, left broken, yet still owes.

After five, ignorance blooms like a flower.
All in green went my love both swift and proud,
a stranger’s work day, a penny an hour.
and the roses were scattered to the crowd.

Because I love you, last night I confessed,
that Buffalo Bill’s sharp memory fades,
In his little hometown, he’s put to rest.
Yet dances alive where dead minds cascade.

The other buys pain and sells pounds of fear.
I consider cruelly, the shape of love,
But Mr., can you maybe pause to hear—
when broken, a small piece breaks stars above.

Gee, I like to think about guilt’s frail song,
I say, dying is fine, but death is cold,
More disorders bubble, despair drags long.
Beginnings to start, no endings to hold.

Here in my little head, I trip and tread—
A tumble through words where nonsense is fed.