rough terrain

[Manslick]

she wants my attention
to sell her desire
and i do often mention
the lack of hot fire

as my words go unheeded
i keep them on the run
while my soul is superseded
by the jolt of a shot gun

motor mouth
sent me sailing south

rough terrain
is my current domain

its hard to speak
when my mouth is full of flies
put my head down in the creek
hope it jars open my eyes

try as i might
the mortis seeps in tight
my last living thought
splints and rips apart

over and over the same sea rolls me
a crimson torrent of foam backlit by setting suns
no captain of the loose ship below my rotting back
corroded sails sheer into the gray horizon

motor mouth
sent me sailing south

rough terrain
is my current domain