Archive for all the stuff I call poems that I have written over the last 30 years and that I still continue to write, oblivious to the fact that they might be little more than doggawn atrocious in the eyes of those who might not know how to generate within themselves the bliss invisible.
Monday, 3 January 2011
Basics
stripped down run about went to places never thought possible under my own steam
funk spitin’ outta me left my lyin’ on the plains levelled
spaced out eye poppin’ eventually incredible after the pain the struggle the cryin’
