jack spicer might not be super pleasant to read but makes me a better poet.

we set sail
ships backed by the windward and the breezy,
an aimless, pleasantly drunk captain to guide us
towards poetry journeys and dancing parties and
the restless release of the verdict.
occasion for a drifting city
craggy buildings
crabby cops
and coffee which must be drunk by all
for an elevated writers block
to intone our barbaric yalps
over martian wi-fi transmission.
we will cruise centuries in our own minds
blurred vision
and visions
over red-brick possibilities
tawdry orpheuses
and sprawling situations
all while inhaling dust
kicked up by the sprawling toenails of god
and decades and centuries...etc.