[dead man]

yes, it was

only a room. 4 corners. plaster and stone
bedframe cabinets clothes. rolling rocks, gathering mold
i would thumbtack old tapestries and sketches and posters
bring my kodak into walgreens to develop my photos
kept them in a box and left it out in the open
so we could sit around and smoke and laugh at our moments
scrawled graffiti everywhere and then i painted it over
cypher rhymes until our favorite instrumentals got old
mistadobalina in my speakers for ages
deltron 3030 / atmosphere / bronze nazareth / cage
recounting salad days to battle age like rat in a maze
i mastered my own masquerade
confronted truth and ran away
walked in with can of cola. left out with a hand grenade
ampitheater talent. Red Line train to work on Saturday
sleeping in til after daylight
palace made of plastic trays
my shelves were stacks of milk crates in this
water damaged palisade
defenses high, my Castlevania. demented mania
in the ceiling rodents scratching at night, the more the merrier
panic attacks, delirium. regression and change
heartbreak thievery adultery addiction and pain
friendship, family, safety. warmth affection and bravery
move a little closer while we listened to rain
fall outside that dusty window. drifting away
rolling over smelling cigarettes she kissed me awake
i learned everything there. i miss my desk where we carved
all our names in x-acto like a letter to god
forever a bond from adolescence to uncertain beyonds
left and never returned. but it was nobody's fault
now i'm outside
recalling all of that while wondering who's
moving underneath the light inside of that room
breathing in my phantoms
leasing monthly a tomb
where i lived and died so many nights escaping from view.

it's a trip, to wonder who
is in there now. i hope you love
every floorboard and creak underfoot
voicing their discontent





thank you