singed by summerheat melting skin off of fingerbones
in the dwelling places called never-grow old and must-not-sleep because of the growing pains.
we collude with suburbs in sweating bones
of static megapolisthe wanting-to-rollick-son blues only semblance of cold
persons unknown glide across voiceboxes and megaphones
slant eyes at hot chicks this is my motherfucking life of myths,
that warm-blooded dismiss of crack-boredome & boarded windows,
look what summerstrokes done did,
we stay sweatbacked, well-hid.
broke-sacked-money-folder, brokeass holder, lyrical disorder, scorched lids.
patterns of toned tribulation
thru summer situation
singed by heat
the vibe like our must-not-sleep minds must not sleep.