With headlights, and lightposts
watching the rythmic scan at my little feet
like an MRI…
the feeling of leaving,
picking a car and creating the distance as we drive away
me in the backshield of a lime-green Plymouth Duster
and going away,
no alcohol, no tobacco, no narcotics…
what was going down.
My practice was Iconic.
So grab yourself by the chi
and no regrets,
nothin pisses me off more than PUSSY POETS.
(sod off in advance wanka)
maybe ill see you later.