An old house made of ash
that never really was a home
A place where even solitude can rest

Those verbs you take to heart
relinquishing the common good

People who don't read well probably get the FEELING of the words
watch how they cringe as I write the word 'HURT'
and when it come to prizes who decides who deserves?

Bows and arrows
soldiers and wheels of fortune
pathways narrow
full up with things unforeseen
such providence comes with heavy losses
and heavy hearts carrying heavy boxes

Dogs hide inside me somewhere
My bowels, loins, conscience
There is measured breathing along with my heartbeat
Egos depend upon us all, you know and

I eat crab cakes and
wonder about the cost of living
out in the Gulf
while
Ice cream always reminds me of
this really great joke I heard once.
It involved a traveling salesman, a chef

I wish to hell today never happened
paid for more mistakes than usual
but I wonder if a simple avoidance
would've had as much poignance

That "All I Ever Do Is Let Everyone Down" smell

i saw a dead man once, with his eyes open
i saw him between two buildings
in the tiniest crawlspace alley...not quite hidden

i remember he had a hole in him, no blood

Let's hear it for modern problems
Modern flight, modern marvels
Tinkertoys to enthrall you
Poorer men who deliver parcels

Unbeknownst to the proprietor
He's made this day slightly darker

I only feel safe at night
when the wind forms a sort of shield
and greets my ears with the static of the miles that it yields.
Everything has the potential of sound
I'm calm but on the edge

Never one to easily scare; the Sentry in the night
creep on up the stairs, check to see if all is right
have a spot of scotch , makes the time caress the mind
instead of hammering its point away

Oh No!
Can this picture be so faded already?
I'm my only copy.

This is sort of fun.
A plethora of boring interludes had collapsed me, but thats done.

Now I'm having a back and forth.

Please tell me when did/ men who own car lots become/semi-famous whores?/

Whether its a right/or responsibility/I will be the judge/

The top is to me
what the bottom is to you.
We graze, free-range, uncaged.

The Sun don't shine on places
where cynicism rules.
With no tourists. Just us that worship the torrents.