Chapter 36: Banality

My veins are filled with gasoline
Need a spark to ignite
Fueled and ever ready
Explosive uncertainty
Ready to fight
A world stained with Benzedrine
Over leather bound pages she stares at me
Just enough to avoid suspicion
On a free day I sit on cold metal
Of a fire escape
Patterns take shape
With the few who pull
And play with instruments and risen
Notes, she’s not teaching
By just being here
Warm spring air
Ever reaching
This alcove of cheer
In desolation fair
Her followers and hangers on
Dance around trying to please
As in door made shade I shun
All who try to appease
In this forced society
“no future for you”
She proclaims echoing me
Not getting the reference
My own book’s pages turned effortlessly
Her eyes pound for to
At my neck showing me
Through insistence
What she’s looking for
When a toddler taps a turtle
And were free once more
Slightly less than moral
The thought she’s thinking
Half focused on the over read words
And water I’m drinking
As a trombone finds a chord
My veins are filled with gasoline
Need a spark to ignite
World stained with Benzedrine
And Micromegas’s plight
Orange carpet an ocean between
Her and I, with pomegranate sharks
Need a taste of the unclean
To shed some sparks
My veins are filled with gasoline
Ready to ignite this world of Benzedrine
Stains and orange carpeted remains