by the time the lights are out
eating a bowl of rice and drinking a glass of water in a room with one light
and white
walls
hair=poet-mad
wild wordy fever
insanity looks a lot like below
to
be dead...
is to be at peace
but I'm wide awake
with bowl of rice in left hand
fork in other
and this quintessential
look
a
proper fellow
with Brightly blues
that saddened the cheeks of his lover
his is the story that keeps
telling stories
never bored or he'd of
ended his life long ago
he tried three times before
with no such luck
but this time
he'll be dead when the
light switch
goes click
Down
upon the
shoulder of the road
he's broken hood up
blinkers on
thumb out
cold
chilled to the metacarpus