sitting down (with headphones)

Powder blue powder keg
Set to expire
Soft tones of night skies
Humming stars and artificial light
Meeting in the middle
Power flicker as the song sk-sk-skips ahead
Scattered footprints at my door
Nothing more
Old newspapers ankle high
Burnt out light bulbs and other assorted dysfunctions
But the music keeps playing
Driving the beat
Steady hand of chaos
Beautiful malady
Ill elixir
Carpet-bombing my soul into a warm cloud of dust
A million ends in sight