Jagged Thought #182: Stung


 

Sipping sunshine from a rose colored glass.
Listening to the airplanes engines as they pass over
The blue speckled sky, with clouds and birds flying by
Even keel.
This is how I feel, when I am with you.

I lay down in a field.
In a emerald field of clovers, and daffodils
Of money colored waves of green.
Benjamin speak to me. As I feel free. Lincoln, no longer.
A slave.
A radiated heat wave, in pavement…cook an egg.
Open your ready legs, and show me heaven can wait.
In a permanent vacation the radio played our song,
And we witnessed angels dance on our plates.
As the waitress hummed along.
We saw watery eyes in the candle sticks, and witnessed war in double vision. We are liquid baby.
Tell me what you are thinking?
I think its just the piano keys, dancing strings on the heart beat. Listen to the strumming song of one.
Lonely jazz player stung.
In love.

 

Jason Wright is the editor and founder of Oddball Magazine. His column appears weekly.

 

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