I miss you like the December earth
      Misses the sunlit rays on a cloudy day
Cold for you I yearn each dawn
      And churn and burn as the aching Pacific waves
A crashing hope upon wishes bent
      At 11:12 my world set straight  
And all that a man can do is wish
      That this will be the fated day
You walk into my life
      And stay

Be patient with me
I’m still a work in progress

Somedays I seem put together
But that paint’s not dry just yet

One day I’ll get this right
I’m sorry

The boy stood on the burning deck
His legs were all a-quiver
He gave a cough
His leg fell off
And floated down the river.




Saturday night 70's telly.

A drunken god has
spoke you into existence
A stolen diary that told you,
it’s a sin to return this body
even if its weak bones
couldn’t carry the weight
of your heavy heart

I know I can speak myself out of it
With a blade in my hand
standing on the edge of the stage,
I’ll wait for the Almighty to sober up
and watch me steal his role

After twenty years of rehearsal
I’ll play god,
lights will go off,
and curtains will close

Your followers will clap in awe
at my convincing performance

As I bow before them
As I fall before you

Ten years ago today
Jimmy and Sandra
Celebrated their
49th anniversary
They never got a 50th
Eight days later
Jimmy shuffled off
Sandra missed him going by ten minutes
It creases me still.

I draw on cigarettes,
Doodle with resin-
Blisters on my fingers,
They all think I'm playin'.
The colors brown & red
Are escaped when I shut my eyes,
And when I turn my face inside
I'm fine with what I see.
It's not dark, pretty light-
It's all clear skies,
Even with a chance of showers
There's always a sunrise.