Absinthe summer

come done gone
w/ not cards left to play
been enjoying
my private absinthe summer
for 7 years now
woke up
still young
yellow-sweated green-faced
doing the asylum polka
fairy boy
wings cropped to sizes
proper for this country's
reaction
shoes all wet
in cat's wrath ruin
no woman to love
no good blues
to turn onto

thrown precisely to the left
side of the border
dead in a pool of horse piss
bloodrain of hopeless hobo's
sinful escapades

oh but my spirit cries still
looking eagerly like never
towards
Americana badlands
savage evil pilgrimages
pioneer primal howls
country
open air hermitage

still can sense some LA trails
in my hometown's
factory dumped
air...