ELECTRIC GHOSTS

with the proverbial

pork chops charring

on the iron 

of the metaphorical skillet

it all becomes clear
how 

it 

has 

all
dungeoned me & mazed me

with its turbulence

& electric ghosts

tho the doctor
has fancier words

LOW BAR POP (NO NEWS VIEWED)

the
air
smells . . . charred

like a close encounter

anyway
its beautiful out

& beautiful to be breathing in

news off
shades on
blinkers in the mail

from proofofalien.com