neon rain

my passion spilled black coffee
on her remorse
an scared her 
off up into 
a grey
tree of old 
moonlight
i sat at da trunk, an smoked her poe-a*s
dead raven cigarettes, an waited
for day to break every branch

da art of patience
takes a long time to learn

stars skirt black hills
in da sky
spitfirin' glitter
from their tailpipes
(magical golden showers)
aliens an ghosts
on starry joyrides
thru da skies' dreamhood

caffeine stirs in my 
belly like non-dairy creamer

leaves an teeth chew each other
i peer up: really?
i’m hungry

i hosed down her glowy roots
with pissy coffee, an watch'd
her grow higher an higher

steamy 
warm 
rain
hits my face
poppin' an drippin'
i blink thru da blur
an stare up (thru knots of branchlegs)
into a black hole
dat leads into her skull
where her mind once was
a mind 
i fell in luv with 

but treated 
like a public restroom

(now when I stare into
the sun
it just pisses me off)

Author's Note

dead ravens--credit goes to allpoetry.com/jamesbond

i read in one of james bonds poems sumthang bout dead ravens, an i was like dats a good name for cigarettes...