Stop
the madness
Inroads
frozen
Christ
bud
Guns
snuggler
Brisk
walker
Aero
dynamic kama sutra
It’s
about time
Wasted
or not
We
take the hill
They
called him Buddha in high school
They
call him Buddha now
I
am always late to the party
Promises
scraping against the windowpane
I
was a king pin and then I was a gutter ball
Take
another hit and forget the friend you lost yesterday
Attention
spans like a gypsy’s curse not even worth their fate in fool’s gold
Stop
the madness of getting inside the clown car, pretending you have a sense of
humor
None
of this is funny including the part when you pulled down my pants and sprayed
me with a fifty foot fire hose
Start
your comeback tour
Before
you know it everyone will have forgotten the company you once kept with no
regard of stagecoaches exploding
Your
daydreams are yours alone, but please don’t ask me to partake in the nightmares
of your lies
Charles Cicirella
12/26/18
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