SW to NE

We meet again, gravity.
Let us mingle with brevity
for a time, and when the game
is over, this chess game for
my soul, we can laugh over
darts and the movie Office Space.
(Excuse me, I believe
you have my stapler...)

Ho Ho Ho Merry Christmas!
It chants, this THING in a box
of junk, this Santa-face monstrosity,
from childhood but works on
the same acid-batter battery, it jingles on motion
sensor. And sometimes, light sensor.
The fucking thing.

But seriously, life pushes me northeast
where the lights twinkle from the ground up,
a ten mile dick inbetween Jersey and Brook-
lyn. And I don't know
what will
happen.

Ha.
The stillness now however, it is because
of a rowboat on this lake, tied to the dock.
Me and her are in it,
my fellow alpha brain wave sistuh,
my world class so class is class goes to class sistuh,
my home sistuh and my mother earth sistuh,
my root chakra knows where home is,
though my naive moronic head says there
is home where I lay my head, and only
for a while.
She's a sistuh but also my lovuh and
you betta believe in Jah that I'mma write to her,
elephants never forget, not while tied
to this dock together, let's untie
and cross to the other
shore.

So Ho Ho Ho mothers and sisters, friends
and fuckbuddies, lovers and teachers and drinkers
and piss ant noBODIES, Ho fucking ho.
John Lennon shoulda said
"NEW YORK IS WHAT HAPPENS
WHEN YOU'RE BUSY MAKING
OTHER PLANS."