Moon Layng On Her Side

Rolling over the outskirts
of my life with your ego
deteriorates my edges
Spinal tap appreciation
holding an open syringe
"Avoid the navel with it's
Nymphaea wrapped around
my waist" you say quietly

Leftover voices from an
 oblong sky you glean with
a rat tail comb saving the oily
 strands that comment
on the moon laying on her
side like a centerfold xeroxed
onto shiny paper

Tobacco grows wild under
intense radiation
Knowledge gains strength
 before it withers
Search the levees,  who issues
 the "time date" stamp for
people like me ?
Cover my "useby" date with
ragweed and hemp conceal
 my worth from your
 gluttenous sociopathic
all consuming ego