Mingled Phrases of Friends
The hodge-podge hurdy-gurdy man
with ropey muscles
raised free roaming chickens
in his pocket garden.
He was a firecracker
but could not live on expectations.
He curled up at the Bodhi Tree,
read a bowl of creation,
eyes glowing like light bulb
filaments .
He blew smoke rings.
Jesus jumpin’ jiminy, bring
me a beer, he yelled.
No one heard him
as he grasped the iron
gate, an ice box of writer’s
block.
Hated, berated, anticipated.
Fire ants.
She sent him air kisses
in a bone china cup,
the expectations torn
open.
Underneath the covers,
he pondered the departure
of his mortal coil.
A daydream, a sanctification
of the fruit of the universe.
On the red eye, he hit his head,
excused himself, no longer
trapped but unwrapped
without insomnia.
He would dance
with a Himalayan gourd
at vespers.
~C.J. Prince
©2015
C.J. Prince Poet 
Monster good bouncy beats and language…fine language!