Can craft perfect recipe?
Can nation stave off time?
Can openness live in hiding?
I am a creep
Kiss my lips in the deep end
We drown down under in sweat
Suing the planet for a ravaged
Hole in the heart.
No notion of quick beats, just
Spittle on the nose and
A dime for poverty
Never enough.
Help me overturn
Your convictions
Of fondness for the greater
Cause, way
So still, my spirit
And so many and so many visit
When I am severed
When I am spliced
Carry me down the river
Where we can float on
And that’s all I ask.