Your Hollywood Isn’t For Chronic Dust Bunnies

Now you are Mr. Munchausen Syndrome
With Cherry lemonade cigarettes
A fingerprint criminal
In a dusty Hollywood fog
You want to be invisible
Then spotlight you,
To be invincible
Stamp your ghosts,
Resonate your wails
Infect me with the theatrics
Detach me from my mind
So, in stride you can love me
For all my wrongs
View me from the tiny box
Where you rest like a silky angel –
In the clouds
Realize I am the authority
With a puncture
I can melt you down to wax
Ahh, my Hollywood
Is built in the forest to the plains
My glamour,
White teeth wonders
Are just diseases under the demon’s shawl

WATERCOLOUR SMILE

He lived in the saloons, the old haunts
On the Edge of Kentucky
Lived dangerously like burning pianos
Now, an old man with a Periwinkle cough
In flannel grief
Paint…