Prozac Prose

Footfalls trick, bright treats and false echoes of barefoot freedom on the wheels of a lonesome traveler. Racing with the freak-shows of emotive dependency and beastly storms, all the while taking the earth in an easy embrace. Documenting the torrential thunder, exploding into the hydraulic clouds, letting sleeping canines astray.  An endless show of inexpensive excitement blazes through the body and the spirit, shares the body with the mind through vilely tolling bells, and sets the desolation beyond vanishing. On the roads, in the seas where the population is limited to grazing hands of artist, writers, angels and surreal surrenders, the cruises bloom bluesy, in the chosen boulevards of the hues, and the sudden rules of the fluorescent moon. Running away the life, envisaging away the time honestly, beautifully, coolly and collectively. Navy jeans, loose tee-shirts, boggling noiseless pen and paper to never prevent glee from gleaming. Like stars in liquor stores through well-heeled borders or through the long branches of Californian pride. Truthful office drinkers and blank jazz hummers in a summertime set and rise, racing to the games of mountain dew in crazy denim, the lucky ones without incessant desire.