I could never believe in solipsism
I can't fix the world
Maybe that says more in disbelief
If all that is, is because of me...

Does the reading of the day,
Trinkets and truffles and all,
Sweeten the taste of clay,
The rust, the blood, the brawl.

Tremendous the power of,
The firefly in the apothecary jar ,
When the pompous lid above,
Sits illuminated as the star

How sour the noble bell,
Rings for those who would be on the seat,
Trained on their bottom as it swells,
Mocking and ruling the masses on their feet.

In immobilized time,
I could find all that's mine.
In sacred seconds I lay,
Holding, yearning, circumspect in my movements

Traveler's time is newton's law.
You can change but you can never stay,
The motion sickness rolls down the cheeks
Dripping off of weary chins.

To live, to die
The buzz words of the Romance languages
They mean but nothing,
without the passage of time.
The beauty, the despair.
The words, the truth that catch you heart and your eye,
Are past, present, and future.
All the time.

Those old school friends with their cigarette lips
They don't think of the likes of me or you,
Up on the golden screen.
We weren't quite quiet or reckless
We trialled in something temperate but restless.
Something we bore down to bone,
A noisy belief in man, blurred like a Monet, believed to be etched in stone.
But those old school friends, like you and I, had frames to contain their Icarus flight.  Now, follow on in your new momentary monetary monastery you now call home.
The curious truth is the note is a note regardless of the flute. The credits close, the air stalled, and most rigorously life itself cares not for the "who", but slitheringly moves on.

I'd never questioned it before
What all the camera flashes
What all the picnic baskets
Showed up for

If not for the steady hold
It couldn't be for the speed
It couldn't be for the need
Of something simply bold

I'd never felt the hotel bed
For all the the cultured gravel
For all the temporal travel
The history it read

If not for the pure blank sheet
It couldn't wait for more
It couldn't wash ashore
The romancing callused feet

I'd never noticed the speed
Of course the gold couldn't stay
But does the need go away
With wasted time and heavy aches

Can compound interest
And societal indifference
Distract the great adventurer

Tell my financial travel
Do the landscapes I missed, unravel
And blossom stability
Or philosophical infertility

That secular moment
The door held in all the negligible knocks
All the chariot questions
And from the hinges came,
From the elusive, dissimilatory frame,
A shuddered cry, an inhaled yell
As the unanswered door sighed and fell,
The pretending pretense we both adored
Stiff and still it lay, a peregrine ward

Dissoluted night and righteous day,
Can't we wander and cut and fray
Under starry-eyed statuettes

Tired maelstrom, sunny morning
Try and follow me and stick and sing
Above the yellowed casement

Doubtful breeze and hefty storm
Guess the color and mood and form
Beside our long knotted cadency

Flowing draft, gentle night
Forget and sleep and write
Alongside the fairing,

By the seconds that forgot luck,
And the future hours
That just might