plain, conventional

is what most people say

they don’t suspect the place is a maze beyond compare

a labyrinth of sensual pathways inside my lair

there are camps of perceptions in all directions

charged with finding meaning and expression

armies of words on their way to vocal election

sent on reconnaissance but that commit defection

acceptably attractive but with minor flaws not inflicted upon super models, you are thinking

come down

watch your head as you step into the mind

there’s an air of a different kind

smells like freedom

that doesn’t square you say, you’re a square

actually, i have circles in my head

spirals of voices that could awaken the dead

take a guided tour to the summits of my occipital ridge

where you can see in every direction

to the left – miles of calculations, ranges of insecurities, and rivers of tears

to the right – the delta of diversity, the peak of curiosity, and the city of Hope

where’s the love? you ask. ah that’s another task, i say

for that you’ll need a special rope to rappel. please belay

it’s a tricky path to get there. you’d be better off grabbing my hand

being an expert in deciphering shyness, or touring with a band

a degree in reading paradox would also help with the lay of the land

it’s in the heart where the flame of love is fanned

could it be worth it? you wonder as you check the time

to tear your schedule asunder and drink some wine

i don’t really care

i’m not into guys who can’t see past the hair