Santa Cruz poems Number x

I am the architect of my personal ideological deconstructions

Hey, the best part of waking up
is a woman at your side,
though I'm quickly discovering
that a cup of coffee runs a fine second

Last night I let someone run over my head
with the heavy bristles of an acid rush
I made love to a figment, an apparition,
but she just wanted to ****
That's alright
Everyone's beautiful in the sweet reverie of reminisce
and I can't get any better than one night mind screws anyhow

I'll still love my phantom,
and wish she shadowed me yet
She asks one question
"Next time you are on the train tracks,
who will you play chess with?"
yet I cannot answer
until the sun is at my back