Southbound-Sea Oleena

Invisible physicians, lawyers, and magicians. An instant of existence at the table in the kitchen. A flood-lit, floating highway, Headlights slicing up a pathway into the driveway. Drop me a line when you finally arrive on the runway. Southbound train-track traveler Add another film roll, quick, into the camera. Grey lake paint-stained body of water To the left of the runway. (Drop me a line when you finally arrive on the runway.) I got lost in Egypt, Wandering around the figurines a hieroglyphics. Paintings on the ceilings, Colorful in contrast to the sandy statuettes. I read the book of the dead backwards And then I made my way to someone with a name-tag For directions to a staircase. I climbed a flight an realized the century had shifted, I was awe-struck, gaping at the walls I floated through the marble halls Like some dis-jointed memory thrown across the room. (From) back when I pumped gas, red shirt, black pants. Drinking in the bathroom, heading for a heart-attack. Never looking up from the sidewalk, High-tops pounding out a beat in the pavement (they went) Yes, I'm a little bit wasted. Just like a six-string, I sing only when I'm pressured Or when I'm alone with a rhythm and a reason. Heading for the season of the winter coat, Heartbeat heavy as a suicide note. Yes, I'm a little bit wasted; Nevermind, I'm fine, walking in a straight line, Trying out my voice for the first time. Grey lake, paint-stained body of water To the left of the runway. Drop me a line when you finally arrive on the runway.