How to get called sir on the regular:

1) Find people who do not normally get called sir.
2) Befriend them.
3) Begin calling them sir.
4) Continue contact with aforementioned persons.

meddlesome childhood

chasing fever dreams
leads to long wide streets
no turn signals
no crossing guards
the same burning child inside
all pride, piss, and perception
piddling away
still waiting for another quarter
to appear in the change slot
of a derelict pay phone from god
bated breath, bit lip, worn eyes
full body embodied by somebody
birds bursting from burning bushes
and baby, they burn bright
who's left to cry wolf?
descartes had the right idea
start some shit
let the rest of the world
figure out what it meant
sand off those wooden eyes
and put on your dancing shoes
the birds are swooping in
to set you on fire

lobo to me

teeth not breaking skin
crushing the throat
bringin it all back to master
food in your belly
two and one half baby seals
vomit and feed the wife and kids
your legs let you run for days
you can easily survive
the harshest winter
laughing at the inferior xeroxes
cages, collars, and chains
they bark 'bout bowls being bare
you howl at the moon
your timeless true god
watching over you at night
and winking
once every twenty eight days

black fire butterfly

wonder is the wake of confusion
a black fire butterfly
fluttering in a hospital waiting room
a prestidigitation, check the sleeves
god, always check the sleeves
love like a burial at sea
but you get to borrow
the submarine
every now and then
vesuvius in your chest
in your brain case
and you poke it with a stick
one box to hold your life
and you just wanna send it
from point a to point b
then set it on fire
water runs uphill
when the camera's upside down

gloam

sun in your eyes
blinding beams to bask in
but staring at it is harshly
unavoidable and unnecessary
it'll give you great crows feet
at seventy
licking ashes, spitting smoke
you sit and dream fully awake
warm eyes, warm body, warm lips
sense recollecting, yearning
you want the opposite of
every sad song you hear
worn eyes, worn body, worn lips
those moths in your wallet
are moving north for the summer
to eat your heart