underneath the velvety sun, on this big blue ball of gas, sat a character loving in the prolonged sense of the word, in side the dark recess of his automobile, fist clenched in agonizing traffic pain, the character breathed out relentlessly, again and again. foot tapping accelerator in 4/4 time, unaccustomed to the slow crawl of life, the drawn out speed of the city, he did it all the time. not for comfort or behavioral reasons, but because it made him feel somewhat connected to the other non human hating machines. and in his glovebox, liars beware, sat something of ambiguous nature, something not worth the declaration of the word, nothing with structure, black and blue, down and green, un- un- un-decided he sat, pondering and wondering, babbling and slapping his hands against the unresponsive wheel, tired he felt, unbelievably unaware of the circular motions and motives of his chair. one pump up, two pumps down, he sat with his typewriter in this lap awaiting the motorized sounds of life. the wind drew up and pushed the plastic bags around in his backseat, where he claimed to be an environmentalist, and yet, for every store he'd visit, never asking for a paper bag, or bringing his own knapsack. he was unaware of his demise. nothing. nothing. was simple and pleasant in the back of those eyes. merely a man. undistorted, merely a man, living through his memories, his wife, his kids, he had no sense, no personality, a blank canvas up on that mantle, no discoveries visible, he changed instant opinions like a snowballed mouse. he had no backbone, no fight, no courage left in him. and taht was his own fault, and no one else, he did it to himself, living in constant fear of the other shoe to drop. he cut it up.


with the passing of people, in and out of books, in and around the revolving door, passing through windows, hearing wind chimes tingle your spine until you cringe and shake with lust, -we are but two people in a large city surrounded with more people in a big blue marble collectively made of ideas and situations, but when you lay your pretty little head down on my chest, and wrap those short sexy arms around me, we fit like puzzle pieces underneath scalding hot sun, and aside from all of the distractions, upon that bed, tent, floor, we are yet but two souls collectively finding comfort, the scents linger in the air a bit longer, the sun bears down a bit brighter, the water taste somewhat sweeter and the air blowing through the cracks in the window makes me want to put my face up to the glass and smile, all goofy like. but with the letting go of such, the reserve system kicks in and a wave of anxiety washes over me, i cannot close my eyes and begin the descension into sleep, the great hand in the sky keeps rattling my cage, and i figure to myself, "if you keep this up, i'll bite my way out of here!"
then i look down, and see you drooling on my chest, and talking in your sleep, and i say to myself, "you need not fear young man, enjoy the beauty, if thrown into the wild blazing hot night, remember the soft silky hands that touched you, the long flowing mass of hair that you immersed face into, those pillow soft lips that you sucked at, hips like Cinderella, and those fiery eyes that challenged you, persuaded you, and ultimately turned your soul to jelly."