used to think i’d seen it all
from grandiose to tiny small.
i lived both high and low and every place that rested in between.
what a shade of green?
you make a psychadelic town out of a world with not color or sound
the way your kisses lift me six feet off the ground.
used to be that i’d feel absurd at the mention of words
spelled out brilliantly across my face for all the
world to see.
what a shade of me!
i can’t tell the in from the outside
as far as i can tell it’s the real live bonafide
what happened to the uptight dignified
poster boy for the man who was raised on pride
here i am, punch-drunk and blurry eyed.
waxing waning dizzy and satisfied.