my neon soul is
trapped up in the
clouds

somewhere the
ghost of tom wolfe
is sipping on kool-aid

it’s a paper cut that
never heals

a broken heart that
can never satisfy
the need for revenge

it’s a broken body
struggling to survive
yet another day

it’s a lovely black
woman crying to
an old gospel tune

a lonely saxophone
wails in the distance

and here comes the
last beautiful woman
on earth

black lipstick and
purple fishnets

may my final dream
be those lips caressing
what is left of this
tattered soul

editors note: May the last thing we get be the last thing we want. – mh clay