american dream

| September 27th, 1997

images graft themselves together into so many streams of consciousness . . . i drift – floating down within you . . . sun and moon aligning with my heart . . . astronomy is all a lie . . . .

middle of the night . . . cafe’s empty . . . smokin’ a cig no one realizes that the heart within is golden painted – chipping shards into so many leaves and leaflets – invitations to balls with gowns and glass slippers, but the slipper shatters for you my dear. . . no more games or fairy tales . . . just me and my luckies and a lost broken down hearted american dream . . .

the american dream has died and along with it go all the houses and the walls all fall in upon me my eyes smoke but the fire is way to hot for you . . .   you back away and watch me burn into all the beings of what they all think we once were – they don’t realize they make us this way . . . unintentional – but enough to shed a tear over?

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