not blue, not green
o, nothing loud
not pink, not red
gray
mo·not·o·nous
simple, relaxing
the color of rain clouds
and sleeping in
on a tuesday morning
and the cool breeze
of a lake in january
and the smell of pavement
after it rains
*n.d.

Maximum hot silence,
As neutrinos finger-out,
Playful harmonies,
on this fretted frown,
Nano-seconds before light overwhelms,
And billionths become measured,
Strutting and strumming and fingerings found,
Playfully erupt,
Like sound interrupted,
And staccato resounds,
Expanse and corruption,
Bringing me down,
Creating life glimpses,
Often unfound,
This mere direction,
Taking lifestyle mirth,
Unknowing and knowing,
For whatever its worth.

I eat my sandwich,
Cause I'm hungry.

And so I sit in life's content,
And drive away all intent,
Harbored feelings rest inside,
Nothing left,
Here I reside,
Smooth the silk of hated paint,
Disguising truth and disgusting rank,  
Follow through and punch the clock,
Whisper when you cannot talk,
Follow me down broken aisles,
Avoid my eyes and broken smiles,
It's hard to stare at my reflection,
Your soulful eyes give no direction,
Lost again to imperfection,
Take me away,
Another round?

Memories,
With long shadows,  
Cast by the light of age,
Exchange truth,
For a more comfortable delusion.

That's about it really. Nothing else to say.