Thoughts No Better
Location
Some thoughts are no better than drugs
Sit down, bored, and decide to
Think them
Pop 'em in and escape
So bad. So good.
From the blurred cars, trees, and buildings around you.
As you pop the fuel in your ears
Steadily wear out the current song that gives birth to them
Until the song is flattened, nothing but sallow skin, and you want nothing to do with it
Anymore.
Like some vile vial
The current song must mother the thought in order to infuse the
walk,
the jog,
the run,
the desperate sprint.
It must nourish the thought to promote productivity
One side effect is that it may instead, wreck productivity
And you may plummet from delusions of grandeur
Bathed in the fluidity of the thought
With the smell of ripe peaches and a hint of spice.
Giddy laser glares.
Thinking, I accidentally walked to the third floor
I should've been on the first.