Zakei’s took off in a stoner’s hippie van, his only bag cow’s clothing, echo.
A toothbrush, a bathing suit, some underwear
a couple of twenty-dollar bills.
His black trenchcoat, filled with american and canadian pennies, controversy, stilleto heel cigars, and stamps of upside down.
Useless unless he wanted to converse in pen with MC Escher, bless his twisted, confused heart.
Started off on dirty paths watching dirty fields run by, to touch the brown in the sky
Oh, he loved his chocolate world, he liked it dark with hazelnut
Ended in city life where women with warm mouths had cold hearts and eyes like winter sky
Sang him lullabies that only tramps can sing
The words are broken, all unseeing, off tune and squeaky clean
He made his life in cheap potato chip crumbs in-the-sheets motels
Rolling over brown wool with beautiful people in ugly lives
Pale limbs and dark sweat, sweet mouths with bitter tears
And plastic lies ; the lullabies that woman sang with winter eyes
Ended in Italia, a city of hot inhales and fierce white exhales
The women watched him like cats watched mice desire in eyes like coal
The bellas of italia ; all long legs and scented smoke
And murmurs like not so beatles after all music
All empty promises and lies like lullabies the woman wore their winter eyes like revlon envy
Smelling chardonnay on ms.italia’s breath
Her tongue was sour lemonade
That tongue she used to sing a lullaby, watching him
With winter eyes, as she took time
To spread her legs, and show him he was welcome
The silken garters wounded the woolen sheets of a dying mattress
Long way from home, on grimy foreign streets with crumbs between his jeans and ass
The cowboy boots coming apart
But they looked good
On twiggy boy
The only boy
That could look good, with his long legs and scented smoke and chardonnay lemonade tongue singing lullabies, in painted revlon envy
Saying goodbye
he kissed her with his winter eyes
she said they looked like sky.
wrote this a few months ago, before joining YWS, 'bout a character of mine
