My head, my head

My narcoleptic head is too big,
     I can't fit society's blonde wig. 

Her rotten teeth smile wide,
     her inner beauty cannot hide. 
His dirty fingers shine blue,
     he doesn't know he's the fool.

Sun-scapes radiate life in
     warm screens--
Memories passing through our eyes
     of people we had been.

The trigger pulls the essence
     towards our heels in blasts
          that do not last in
     our minds so fast. 

The eagle flew and the fox ran,
     our thoughts meld together
     to escape from this land. 

These concrete grounds are bound
     to reconnaissance
that finally taught a mortal lesson. 

...   the fiery air
blows through my head
as i fare off to bed ...
2 Responses to “My head, my head”
  1. this is my favorite ziggy mang poetry so far

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