Can you do what I do?
Can you look out at a chaotic sea and smell the tranquility?
Can you jump from one worn roof top to cluttered roof top with the ease of a haunting arctic chill?
Can you orgasmically smell the tantalizing aroma of fresh baked bagels early in the morning after closing down the last slovenly bar on the block?
Can you dream original thoughts like fluffy clouds in heaven that looks like thick marshmallows or Billy Dee Williams?
Can you deflect the constant hordes of tongue numbing slings and avoid the orgy of jealousy ridden arrows, thrust upon the royal court from angry, hopeless pallid peasants who have not been properly intellectually fed in decades?
Can you look up at the 3am sky, rub your bloodshot vulnerable eyes and count the stars in the Southern sky?
Can you pick out three painful things that would make you cry on cue?
Can you see without your old glasses, when your fragile vision is skewed with them anyway?
Can you hear the distant rumble of the subways and the eye popping shrieks from well-lubed drag queens from the upper floor of your suburban home?
Can you feel the cocaine attack your languid bloodstream like a possessed vampire roaming the darkened streets for supine victims?
Can you regenerate your dormant taste buds and finally taste the fire in your cup when you wake up in the morning and cannot find your way out of your generic cell?
Can you foolishly slap down the nebbish welfare children that tug on your shirt sleeves demanding pennies and old pieces of bread to eat with their government cheese?
Can you forcibly vomit on the vain bodybuilder who poses into the reflection on the subway window?
Can you dance in between the snowflakes during a blizzard and give nicknames to each one as they melt on your fingers, your steaming body heat destroying nature's perfection in a supersecond?
Can you ride a horse like a cowboy and drink it's urine when you are out of water and have not had a drop in three and a half days?
Can you somberly lick the unhealed wounds on the soles of your feet and pick the vexatious splinters out of your toes with your teeth?
Can you wander the rancorous streets of New Orleans during Mardi Gras and avoid fistfights with drunk tourists from Lagos?
Can you honestly look into my aloof eyes and drift off to an angelic sleep?
Can you do what I do?