Deep Fried Stuff Poem by ... Darjet

A dusky haze
through Brooklyn shades
writer’s write and painters paint
It could be the same sun
or it could be the end
A deep fried moment
or an alternate ending

Orchids above your name
Cotton guns your frame
I worshipped you when you came
You smiled when the music played

Your furry overcoat stole the scene
they all loved me
I should have known
I should have cared
they all loved me like waves in my hair
Got sick of living a day at a time.
Wishing for warmer seas and
liberated skies.