I have so much to do
and I don't- I haven't been reading
the books,
they say, move, move
out of our way-
I can't go to another city,
you're there already.
I'm using more salt on my meals
then is necessary
I admit things are harder
now
I get sad frequently
in-spite of these beautiful songs
I pull out from memory
maybe  introspection
isn't my cup of tea- at least
not right now-  it's dinner
time and I better watch another
feel good movie.

I change too often
I forget who I really was
and do terrible things
would I have done them before?
live things grow and
flow with the wind
I have too many mood swings
to be nurturing
many things to unload
before I change again. 

stars and sun signs

I have to look for
something
can't recall what it is
but I must keep looking.

I think that's Bob Dylan
changing in the room
I wonder what he's
still doing.

I have no new
shirts, no feathers
on my cuffs for safekeeping
no books worth reading
no songs worth singing
no places to where I can get going,

I keep looking.

lets talk about love till the cows come home

or they disappear...
shit I can't remember
where I left them last
was it this meadow
or that slaughterhouse?
hey, did you order
the leg of beef?
I'd like a piece of that.

I noticed that something is amiss.
Maybe it's nothing...
yeah it's probably nothing.

eyes

The eyes
see everything.

The paper cuts
on the edges
of your fingers
are still bleeding,
I wonder
if it'll hurt
from holding.

Maybe I mustn't
brush off the
dust from
the knees
of your worn out jeans.

Your green sweater
is slipping away
from constant wear
but should I
pick out the loose
thread from the shoulder
where there is a tare?



I can't do anything.

daybreak

It's daybreak
and I'm not yet
back inside my head
still dinner table manners
and chit chat
continue.

It's dawn
when the dew
settle on leaves
but only paper shreds
and a hint of heartbreak
followed by a cigarette
fall, ashes and all,
on the sheets.

It's early morning
and the birds
fly to feed their young,
the ants begin their
collecting
yet I'm in bed
dreaming
of nothing.

The disappearing act.

I've surrendered my future to God
to do as he pleases
the present I have to bear with
still.

I left myself many notes along the years
in classmate notebooks and cheap letter pads
and I haven't read them
because I can't find the things
I bought yesterday.

I give up trying to get through
the day
covering up the hole in my heart
where rot and decay
is working their way
up and into everything else
that's bare inside me.

I promise to purchase another
cheap paper pad into
which I pour all my truths,
deceits and any other random twitches
to forget them safely
for rats
to make a tidy meal.