Miles of the madness drawn down threads
spinning on the wheel lengthening dreads
petals of the flowers fixtures on the scene
syllabalic majesty on tough streets lean
People and the papers peeking at the news
nosy to the neighbors sitting on the roof
binoculars and frying pans
shocking to the teeth
the minds of madness grinning while
the bankers and thiefs
keep on
taking quarters from the pockets of the jeans
the shocking gestures meant a lot of
caught the attention of
the money changers at the temple funky in their dance
The wedding of the credit cards and the marriage of the damned
I stopped you just before
you got
blood on
your hands
tipping on the mysteries I drank the secret juice
and plotting my demise and jumped
and opened up
my corresponding parachute.
This prose was written in the fashion of a drum solo.