Young Crash

Stress

Ugly beasthead,

Dismissed ignored rather

Me stroll along Santa Monica.

And live,

Imagine.  That.

Imagine doesn’t have to be imagined anymore,

No,

It’s tangible, a dish, a course 4, full

for a day willed envelope.. Clouds cumulonimbus multiple shades and fluorescent tints– 

Poems brought back from dead..

No angst ax.. But live seismic.. Quake and

Quake all day–

Set about and out by self.. The growl now not

Heard at all..

Only joy reverb.. Echo know–

My music in my day the careless way

my babies play.

Wheel gripped, speed sign,

huh.

(10/26/16)