you cannot see the trees
for the black birds helicopters
stolen is stolen is stolen
getting high from getting over
i was a burglar
until i became a locksmith
i had so much of other's stuff
extra extra i did not need
a burden every time
time changed
and moving
when the neighborhood was bad
running with all sorts of "tools"
around my belt
skin poppin gifts
from the emotionally blunted
jacked in to a hardly carved place
with would be chips
and dust so soft
sugar for salt
smoke for soil
and the way you waved ok
and then again again
nagging, following
putting the wish into wishful
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