(Lady on a Wire and Mike Zone collaboration)
red death illusions
marking territories
with no vacancy signs
rolling up locked and loaded
giving off pistol whipped
confusion
i’m out for the bounty
in this dead town
holding hands with
black velvet shadows
ready for all this
cheap motel dinner theater
chatter
nothing is holy in this vortex
filled with verbs and nouns
hung together suffocating
into nothingness
tumbleweed gestures
lost in the language
of musty old gas stations
ponying up to glory holes
just to feel mildly amused
casting silhouettes at high noon
from words too wild to tame
these words roll them out
on the butcher block
cutting them into magical
delusions
the west will never fall
because desire and prophecy
are one in the same
as you fill up on wandering space
they’ll both be catcalling your name
the time has come
fondle the forefront
and click your heels
because there is
no place like home
(C) S. Lynette, 2023 (from Razorville)
Lady on a Wire 