A Fractional What?

where did it all
turn?
when did vernacular become so
predictable
and scary?

was it due to the constant
wax and wayne
of human contact?
while i continue to
play fight
by fighting urgency

relaxation is around the corner
waiting for me to
shoot it down
with a
sub-machine gun
an emotional drive-by

this time i've got dive
bombs
and clocks that tick
irrevelently
i only count the tocks
anyway

steering wheels have no
handles
and airhorns have no
signal
but we continue
to procrastinate

i'm falling
like a dive bomb
in mid flight
'cept i don't have a
destination

the pancakes here are
delicious
the countryside is hideous
all flat
no craters
nothin'

i'm a damn fool
and i know
it
the only thing i have
going for me
is this dog noise
i make
'cept i don't have a
destination

we could be stupid together
you and
me
and we could live like
we were
kings
but that would make
everybody
feel meek

one day
i'm gonna write something good
ya know, something
worth while
...
like Voltaire
but until then
i'm just going to be a fool
and keep
procrastinating

i'd miss it
if only i could
just remember
but the last time i was there
it didn't really feel
like dive bombs
gliding
gliding
gliding
gliding
BOOM.

~I am a damn fool, this is an erstaz gift. i miss it.

Love,
Digress.