JUPITER’S SON

Woke up this morning, brushed my teeth with last night’s beer.

Run your dude fingers through my dreads. The queen inside

Will awaken when the time comes. Branches shiver, the grass

Yawns. Fresh out of the womb. Potato Bombs. Magic fills the

Stale air. Speeds of lightening, little men dancing, today is going 

To be strange.