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Along For The Ride

This artist guy

That I’ve let loose

He’s really digging some holes

In my life


Burning some bridges

He’s gone a little overboard at times

In the righteous name

Of creating

A Monster

Of my own creation

I am

A shitty version of

Dr. Victor Frankenstien

I always did love that book

Ayn Rand


Mary Shelly

The only lady writer’s I’ve read

And I’ve become what they warned against

(Don’t worry dear readers

I’ll read some more lady authors

I’ve heard there was an lady existentialist

That’s worth reading

But I forget



Simone De something…)

Good lord!

What is this dribble??

What is this poetry??

I don’t know

And I don’t really care

The typing of a man who’s let loose

A side he never knew was there

I’ve benched the judge

And brought new players to the game

The artist

The explorer

The poet

The musician

The fighter

I’ve fused them

And created

A monster

Who just goes on and on

About nothing

He just says whatever he wants

Whenever he wants to

And anyone can read it

At anytime

And I don’t really feel

Like stopping him…

What a life.

What a


This is going


Turn out

To be

It is

Kind of

Fun though


Do not come near the artist


You want to be turned into a story

That no one will know

Was real




A fusion of the two

Except for

Me and you

What a life.

What a


This is going

To be.

And I’m just

Along for the ride.


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