Fresh mulch permeates the air,As new seeds are planted into a mind,Where ideas are desperate to germinate.Staying stuck in the weeds is no longer suitable for a soul thirsty to feel something new.Something besides dry humor,And,A plate of burgers along french fries while watching whatever the algorithm decides to feed it that night.No more city... Continue Reading →
Weedz In A Bronx Jungle
Lines. All kinds. Ones you snort and stand behind of, Whether you're in pain or searching for something divine. Food for the mind. Food for the heart whenever agony strikes... But, I often wonder what I look for as a writer. Writing and riding on a high I'm fighting as a lifer. Sentenced, An imprisonment... Continue Reading →