paper cuts and split knuckles
painful every time
hands washed
paper cuts as the beat fills
in where the smoke lifts
watching the way the beat
moves the air
paper cuts colored with gray
puffs like a locomotive
up or down the track
east or west coast
it doesn’t matter
paper cuts and split knuckles
stinging under water
working out with the mind
spinning out of control
itself needs the hands not
the paper cuts
cutting short the motion
the motive as crazy
as it could be
smoke fills the room
until a window open
or a door cracked
it’s that puffin’ loco motive
behind what has been done
since trees could grow
mother nature created
who discovered fire
put them together
paper cuts from rolling
too close to the edge
might fall back a step
or two on the run again
paper cutting into
all the time he’s got
put aside for writing
with a beat behind
like the theme
of this mundane
reality…
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