Ghost Rites of Passage


Complicated thoughts of a fruitless mind,
vegetative configurations for my valuable mind,
don’t mind me,
I’m just biding your time in order to show you that I’m not online,
what got you into this piece of mind,
what got me to define this line,
what did you do to write this fine;
letter formulations that don’t get me by,
I need something else to distract this mind.
Get on TOP,
don’t forget about the bottom line,
it matters more when I see your kind.
Don’t tell the way to find my originality,
it is borrowed from the blues and
red hot like the shine of the flat-footed fascinations of substitute teachers,
complex punchlines that resign the time,
punch out and take your credit card with you,
I got your back,
please don’t stab mine.