Ghost Eyes

I lost contact with the world tonight
as I rolled my eyes on vain blades,
run this spark a grave.
Prayer ribbons dulled the chimes
of the avalanche iron,
nothing said,
nothing done no more.

Blow hurricanes over the freaks
deafen them with whispers.
Misfits today are not
the asylum dolls of yesterday
because gothic slices of tombstones
have been woven into stylish fashions.
Zombie chic.

I see the world fine tonight
through reflections on a tuned cutlass,
this is no place for the wicked
or the drugged.
Loss of freedom saw to that.
Save the planet
feed the poor,
but I see the real world tonight.

Cancer has eaten the reptiles
and rebels look to artists now
who shine with intense shards
of clutter.
Brief sparks of lucidity
born through desert years.

I see the world just fine tonight
I am on a binge,
on a buzz,
on a roll.
I see the misfits
I watch the art,
I see the world real fine tonight...

@Steven Francis 1999