3.97$

I wrote better lines when I was 22,
though anxiously awaiting
I lost my mind
to thoughts consumed
of all my time
better wasted with you;

and that’s the truth
but don’t quote me
“that’ll be 3.97”
but you don’t owe me

written from opposite ends
of the city
desert dwelling sightseers
and loose pennies

too bad we smoked all the loud
at least we’re traveling mid-morning
alleviating reckless crowds
still milling around, dancing about
under thick black shrouds
as ghosts within we fly free without
so free without; those cyclical doubts

an intoxicant lust growing mindfully
Sound; as it dissipates
to hang around
lingering, “it clings”
Same team?

then get your shit in check
3.97 total and I tell you
to just write the check
still 3 cents left
2 dollars out
of debt

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