Quibble

a Crip with a limp, makes more sense than a Pimp with common sense. Too much drama unfolding is a lot of nonsense. Touching you with my art, tearing pages apart, making a paper mache collage, tools on the floor of the garage. A hammer a few nails to impell and impale, drawing blue blood from the mouth of a well, oil slick like the back of a whale. The train derails like systems fail, carded and carted off to jail, back again to tell the tale end, like the back of my hand, I know my pen, the tip is jell and black as the inside of the inkwell. The pigment of my skin turns red as if my insides bled, words speak loud, like announcements coming over PA Systems  "ATTENTION IN THE BUILDING"

Clear your consciousness, think for a minute or maybe a moment

All it takes is a second, for everything to shift and change direction

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