Jadey

Once again
i sit at my desk
staring out the window
into my own psuedo-reality
with the “insight”
that people with six-year-degrees and existential experience
try to make me see as coherently as them
in the haze of a percoset and vodka cocktail
while they detail the lesson plans
of a psychotic in thorazine withdrawal.
But tonite it’s just me.
This is my own vision,
to be branded with my own God Damned X.
My world.
Where I prance about carefree
through a field of insincere compliments and back handed admiration dipped in a candy coating of respect.
In response I gather up all of my integrity and
let loose with a "FUCK YOU!"
Satisfied I saunter
away from the listless little rerun;
the endless monotony of nothings an nobodys.

Here I am free
free to stop and write
some clever little ditty
on the bathroom door
at a gas station
in the middle of nowhere
called Marissa.
And no one aks me why.
Or tells me that I’m weird.
For I am king tonite.
Watch me stroll down the intellectual red carpet
to the castle of wisdom
where there is no cover charge
and no ID required,
Assuming you have a handful of charm and know the bouncer at the door.
Tonite the rays from the moon fail to cloud
My mind
And I am free to create at will

But then again maybe I’d be better off just
Lying in bed and watching cartoons.