Two brown beasts devour an elephant.
I have a box of love,
a book of art, and a craving for
roasted marshmellows. Luckily,
I have a pen full of ink, thankfully,
no computer.
Homeless,
I find a self in my uncle’s basement.
A red light in the bathroom, a used, green
Versace loveseat, and stacks and stacks
of books, one atop the other, surround me.
Yesterday, I walked through Whitestone,
around me houses spun in tornado whirlwinds.
It was a shining, Spring day.
No storm was brewing outside.
Living by New York City,
my favorite thing to do
is to rip out skyscrapers from their cement foundations
and toss them across the Hudson—
I’m not too big a fan.
(Words aren’t hindered by false direction.
Always leading outward to return,
back into themselves)
A worn-out man in a black fedora hat,
stares, inquisitively at me. He stares,
almost sardonically. He sits across the galaxy,
with crossed legs, and an awkwardly, but precisely,
tilted head. I have a desire to communicate
with this mysterious stranger; ask him, why
he keeps staring at me; but I’m cowardly, and I’m
at a loss for words. The man looks to be in his late
20’s, and, truth be told, strikes me as an imprisoned,
beast. He winked at me! The joker!
What does he mean?
Surprisingly, I notice,
we’re alone;
just me and him.
Frankly,
I’m a bit scared.
I hope it’s just my nerves.
I’m in his basement.
I don’t recollect if I came of my own freewill.
I’m unable to move. He’s cast a spell on me.
Maybe, it’s the drug. Either way, I’m terrified;
I’m unsure of his intentions. The room,
seems to be upper-class: a green, Versace loveseat,
stacks and stacks of books surrounding us.
I notice a bathroom with a glowing red light.
Mirror mirror on the wall
Mirror mirror on the wall
Mirror mirror on the wall
Question?
The same as always, and as always, you never listen
he replied.
