Michael D. Amitin

free ballad

shooting up raggedy winds
blood crimson frost
faraway nights,
Montreal, she’s there
tender eyed

walking lightstreaks ahead of me
I stumble shiny stockyards into 
morning future fogs
yesteryear tattoos fading on thin dreamrail hearts 

she never liked to walk as a kid
ice creams summers along the Seine

she loves me,
gotta fly

wwoz on, funky as ever
in the midnite boil

a lot of me in her
torn tender grasses, blue moon trances

as lampposts gleam broad street
endless roads await her hot tire rampage tracks

purr, run the engine
it’s all yours baby

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