Sixtoo Grimey Inks the Moment

chorus:
attach a more believable angel to this here string puppet,
the bridge travels in many directions.

punctuation mark, excuse me, car pulls into empty parking lot,
where lost cats play with lint that dropped from my pocket on the previous screening this afternoon.
how the hell did i get here?
here, the place that i balance in my precious pencil case,
most closed weapon passive hillside.
touching gaping wide, open self-doubt.
miscommunication of the world that i live without.
the bar is closed, and the hippies are restless.
motion in the same place, mentally beaten senseless.
i've underlined the ideas so much that they're ingrained,
and painted in braille to the inside of my veins.
i work with my heroes for a living.
two bucks a game, the homeless watch us hustle.
misplaced, no name, nomad strategy,
crushing all prospects in the overanimated world, it's called the process.
this red table seats two, one candle,
lights, twenty-five marks from visiting vandals.
myself included, using paint markers and a litmus paper culture.
impermanent, laughing impermanent, and that's the nature of the sleeping giant.
temporary is enough for dirty laundry, but not i.
i'm standing atop this building looking down.
dropping rocks soaked in words through the fog, it's not for you.
how insensitive of i to do dirt with a monorail butterfly. one wing left.
i'm flying in circles until the fog disappears
and i see the top of the box was left wide open.
five, four, three, two, one...

chorus