The Floor Heater

It was a low, indistinct, continous sound at first.
In the coming light of day, it grew.
Murmuring saffron regalia ;
a golden red saree sweeping the polished marble
on the floor of your contemptible imagination.
You woke half a stop behind.
You always do this:
play genie with the focal ratio,
discern vague red shapes
from rubbing your eyes
as someone beautiful
in recent memory.

filbert & jones

blog a blog blog
dog
kick it fat with ipod
Right now I'm
watching
sunlight on a human body
picturing
a little hummingbird
on a slanted hill.
You got me.
That little tattoo
and that blue hairtye
You got me.
little fawn face.
throw love on this brother.
I'll clean the kitchen.
Real talk-
This morning
I got the ibuprofen cure.
your looking so demure
the way you're standing there
want to chew on your hair.
Image is everything?
Insomnia, what?
filbert and jones
and Helen
ain't home.

dis be da d ramblin