So much depends
the off white
with their yellow
and life giving
the thoughts of suicide
so you can let another
dreadful day go by.
and wallow in your
and feeble attempts
to get past your bedside.
drag out the door.
can’t do this no more.
big bad max provides relief,
albeit it brief.
best bros make it better
but not for long.
you know where you belong.
the Ides of March are upon us
and the Caesar’s days are numbered;
though the conquest of Gall
brought wealth and fame
and All the world
Shall remember the name,
the brightest flame
And as legions cross the Rubicon
the Senate are solemnly
For The Pharaohs of the Nile
and all the riches of military splendor…
Et tu, Brute? Then Fall, Caesar.
out of the North I gallop towards home,
rubber hooves of my Civic pounding the Palisades Parkway
Pump pump on the gas, to Switch lanes and pass,
Raggaeton on, November air pouring over the sleek bodied machine
trees and signs fly by, Hudson River Valley disappears behind,
swallowed up by the blackness my high beams couldn’t find,
ink-black waters of the river flow churn slow,
Garden State plates traveling in a bounding pack down the track
like hounds for the races, skyline light replaces stars turn to
street lights frantically spilling by night’s asphalt blood
Out of the North and away from the dreams,
reentry to reality urban chugging turning gangland mugging
gasoline igniting cigarette loving and exits for the Holland Tunnel,
Shout out to Elizabeth, Union and Brooklyn the radio Jamaician MC sings
While I’m barreling to Heaven on four-cylinder wings,
the Pulaski Skyway sets us free
Ripping our Skeletons Out of the North
and Smashing them gently
into the Sea.
How do sense and cents sound the same.
It doesn’t make any sense.
sometimes in my mind,
I’m a prince or a knight,
standing up for what is Good and Right
in a world of evil-doers and warlocks.
I think that I’m the monster,
and that knights
just can’t exist here.