across the park lawn,
and mumbles a tagline
staring into the empty space of the sidewalk stampede
I find her strangely sexy for carrying on the conversation
and wonder how she'd feel if I tried to make myself a part of it
wither I'm staring down a soulmate
or a just lady going over her grocery list
will remain unknown
cause I'm a social cripple and a coward to boot
the kind of person that wonders about these things aloud
on the way to have breakfast
insulated by and isolated within ideas
but god, though
it would be nice
what a perfect way for two crazy people to break the ice
I was talking to myself, and saw you talking to yourself, and thought, I dunno, maybe both of us could benefit from having someone else listen?
the two of us could fill a room with a thousand dissenting opinions,
to rival the collective of all unwitting contemporaries,
on Roanoke Parkway,
We'd have a whole hell of a lot to talk about
if I was any good at talking to other people,
that's for sure...
About Ezhno Martin:
According to Bob Phillips -- Toledo's Best Poet, and an old man who knows every prostitute between Flint Michigan and Cleveland Ohio -- "Ezhno's does what Ezhno does and goes around fucking up everything."