Thursday, January 22, 2009

Running Shoes

You pill to feel the breeze
I feel the faint colors, the breeze
      ,the trees
still look brown
Her yellow teeth
And a lighter that's out of juice
    I'm out of juice
You wrap a cock around a bed pole
To shut the fire alarm off
Your fists paint your head every night
And when you grab her shoulders
Your stomach crashes every time
The light in your eyes causes you pain
You miss the outside world
The strange night
Where you lick cats that taste like rum
And run into the door
You need good shoes
You've been running for years
Your knees don't hurt
Because your old

4 comments:

  1. "wrap your cock around a bed pole"
    "your fists paint your head every night"
    i like those

    ReplyDelete
  2. yeah this is really something johnny boy.

    ReplyDelete
  3. i feel it, yo. keep it comin, keep it runnin.

    ReplyDelete