Prickly green scenes.
Strings strumming strung out fingers.
Looking for his place, where there aren’t any trees.

Sugar coated foam.
Bee sting finger building boards,
Begs to build a home.
Walk beneath with memories, looking up at these.

Tired, friendly, worn out face.
Inside himself, tries to find his place.
Never sleep through the night.
Awake, gotta move, gotta leave.
Gotta get goin’ it’s already light.
Don’t know why.

Penguins pace playgrounds at night.
Short slides for miles, chainlink swings.
Sandcastle queens knowing everything.
Dripping. Fleet leaking from the stereo,
Like a smile that shuffle brings.

Geodesic domes, doubt, wind blows and
they wake up to the stereo.

Tired weather screens.
Wears green, grinning, he’s invisible, lingers.
Searching for his place where there aren’t any trees.

In his head is not how it seems.
Begs to build a home,
Because he’d love to sleep and dream.

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