Lonely Buffalo

In my oldland days, sitting
On piles of mutant envy, the
Promises muttered to myself
Dissolving in a shot glass
Being raked with gardening tools
Held in small determined hands
Eyes almost as blind as my own
Seeing the tips of toes on roads
And simple destinations

In my wild sick days, coughing
On a couch as the war began, the
Erythromycin needed for two months
I saw your distance beyond the
Double pneumonia, widening as
A stomach fills. So devolved
From former goals and promises, so
Gulled by the concept of something
Perfect. Tendrils on the inside
Rewatching Naked Lunch

Expelling mistakes, to become
More consumed by fault
And the desire to write it



Credits
Writer(s): Frank Dipietro
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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