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Those bad mojo memories

Coming back to foil and kick

A decent day turned down low

Shadow records play in the dusk-lined room

One lonely bed, one lonely chair, one lonely window

Views of the widows on the walk

Black dresses and veils

Black roses, black nails

Thinking about the dark side of the moon

And all that goes on there

The alien architecture

Mind-blowing our own

Like this sad skin ensconced in velvet

Super-highway brain through the guardrail

Over the cliff

Into the rocks

Fireball

I mutter madness and everyone stares

I walk into a room, and everyone laughs

I choke on my own thoughts

Word salad

I trace the odd patterns of my life

The spills upon the atlas

Journeys and slaveries

The people, the pain, the pardons

I could have never been

What I wanted to be

Back then

Those muddled visions

Of architect, engineer, wanderer, ghost

My mind would never have allowed me to make it through

I would have been derailed in the very beginning

I never had a normal purpose

I will always be somewhere else

Up here, over there

A collection of handcrafted obstacles

As I ricochet from path to path

Like a spinning diamond cutting stone

Fragments littering this ethereal Earth