A FAST RIDE NORTH

Sometimes I get too wound up
For the music even sound up
A wild wind is blowing
And I don’t know where I’m going
Grasses flourish in my gutter
Try to speak can’t even stutter
Thoughts exploding in a gusher
It’s the context that’s the crusher
Like tattooists so distracted
The art becomes so jacked it
Seems the only thing to do
Is paint it black and boo hoo hoo
But there are dramas going on
In the jungle of your lawn
And matilija poppies frying
In the sunshine by our crying
Dessert first and dreams
Beside chilly mountain streams
All happening in tandem
Making troubles seem so random
Always count on paradox
To knock off both my socks
Wrapped up now in your hair
Even when you are up there