196000
I woke up in poetry and died in something else. I was reborn and fluid. I was here in this moment and everywhere at once.
I winked and for that one brief moment, you didnt exist. Even the light of the sun could not escape my crushing gaze.
I was crazed, loco in locomotion. Kerosene in the belly and fire in the heart and when I released poetry to the world, it was fire flame.
A sterno inferno, constant and persistent and life resistant. It had no death and in te end the only thing that was left was the urban poet.
Fire flame.
