Me & You came to this party
Full of vigor, full of life
Ready to take it all head on
Me & You, husband and wife

Me & You are the daily special
With love served on the side
Here or to go we're good with the flow
Me & You together for life

Me & You are willing partners
Me & You both fit the crime
The day we robbed each others heart
Me & You have been doing time

Me & You fit each other
Like a well worn pair of gloves
Summer strong, Winter warm
Me & You covered in love

Me & You are holding steady
To this venture we are on
More rough these days than ready
Me & You in this love song

Me & You do better together
Than we ever could separately
Two love birds of a feather
Flying through this life fancy free

You look at me, I look at you
Seeing very different views
Grasping tight, not to let loose
On what we both feel is the truth

With our eyes open wide
Opposites on either side
In our lives we wonder why
Differences as day and night

We fuss and cuss in our disgust
Throwing hands in giving up
I wonder what is wrong with us
And where went our brotherly love

In values face we generate
What has become so much hate
We need to learn how to relate
Bring passion back into play

One of us has misconstrued
In this dilemma of our views
You thinking me, I'm thinking you
Who has lost that bit of truth

In this our two different views

I'm pretty sure I know their ***** little secrets
With Big Brother watching over me
And what I know you know that I can't keep it
Remember this in case tomorrow I'm history

U.F.O.' s are flying past my building
I see them wink, little men of green
It's time to foil up all my outside windows
Keep the gamma rays from infiltrating

And of the mailman I'm more than a bit leary
Letters and bills are not all that's in the post
A very good reason for most of today's junk mail
Is in the hiding of tiny microphones

When I head out to the grocery, people are awful friendly
Asking how I am, checking up on me
Pretty sure every one of them is a Russian agent
With that English accent down to a tee

When l'm alone at home doing daily dishes
I often hear strange voices gurgling from the sink
I'm always very quick to close the refrigerator
The other day I caught the honey ham glazing back at me

And all of this because I'm privy to their secrets
How do I know, my source's tell me so
If I told a few to you, you never would believe me
But then again there's just some things the common man should never know

If I could ever count the cost
If ever I was at a Croc loss
Oh the inhumanity
If there were no Crocs upon my feet

No comfort for them to saddle in
No soft rubber sponge in which to grin
Whether Chinese made or Mexican
If you have not Crocked you have not lived

At the sight of Crocs it brings to mind
Who is the king of the foot line
When the rubber hits the hardened road
It is the Croc that's in the know

So take a ride and slip and slide
Inside the Croc you'll feel you died
And landed straight at heaven's gate
Where angels have Crocs on their feet

Do you still feel the need to ask
If Crocs are just a passing fad
You can ask my feet and my ten toes
They're the ones that are in the know

But their reply will be a muffled sound
As they're both inside my Crocs right now

I wonder where would I be
If not for the Sharpie
To keep myself organized
Permanently

As I store my life in boxes
With short stories on top
So I'll know where to go
When I need to restock

I even Sharpie my name
On the tags of my clothes
So both my clothes and I know
By whom they are owned

Oh the Hollywood tragedy
If my pirated DVD's
Where not all color coded
By a rainbow array of Sharpie's

Plus they're the perfect party favors
With the overindulgent guest
For weeks they can look in the mirror
And see all the fun that they missed

There is nothing I like better
Than pulling out my permanent pen
And marking down forever
Whatever mood I'm in

there's a rhythm behind
these sunken eyes
thundering  storms without a voice

where red ribbons are tied
nooses swing from the sky
gasps are lost in the dead of white noise

notice cracks in your skull
thoughts are foggy and dull
clouds will echo a slumbering plea

and until you've woken up
with your mouth sewn shut
you won't know what it's like to be me

you are the burning house
that I want to live in

this poem has no title
for it to lean on
so there is no telling
the direction it goes

no title to hinder
or hold it back
all of its meaning
is in all that it says

this poem has no title
to hold it in place
it can only rely
on the rhymes that it makes

whether they're good
or whether they're bad
this poem has no title
to hold its hand

this poem has no title
to weigh it down
which forces a read
to find what it's about

and what it's about
you may not find
until you have reached
the very last line