Bohemian Slow to Mainstream

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tangerine segments. pulp

turns to juice. let loose

from a self-made prison.

guitar string. poetry

reading. orange aroma.

table for one. alone with

the words. At home with

the phrases. Pages narrow,

then burst in crossover

blind dreamstates. vehicle

honk. off to another improv

session. yellow cab waiting.

Day out of night. Battling

tragic avenues. Every

plateau has more than

one edge, but only one

plane. My path is a sad

excursion. Internal torment.

Rush hastily. Pull back.

Observe. Contented outcast.

Searching for solitude.

Cursed from enlightenment.

Twice spurned. Six red

hairs on the passenger

seat. Reveal the pattern.

Crab nebula staring.

The rain-filled streets are

empty at this hour. Pay

the fare. Swear at the

black and white street cat.

A ginsbergian slant can't

transport the conveyance.

Devil wings. Painted on

fear. Listen for saxaphones.

Dismiss the background

noise. free verse awaits.

Step over puddles that

must be days old. A

bouncer asks for I.D.

Inside the Blackheart

Bar. Stench of stale

pipe smoke. Mostly gray

these occurrences. More

than depression sets in.

It's best to move on.

Strong portents. Bold

omens. Sworn to

secrecy. Born integer.

Axioms shackle me.

Mass transit of an

unstable genesis. Rusted

bicycle chain. Dust and

ash envelops the thought

process. Rapidly drained.

Lazily scanning the

dense crowd. Chipped

glasses. Full ashtrays.

A place in the corner.

Thunderstorm coming.

No umbrella. No jacket.

Outside the world is

more torn than I thought.

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