It started with the solitary ring
Ringing, ringing
Till it rang no more
Others began to ring after that
The digital world informing, as they always do
Many more phones would ring
Some would answer
Some would never answer again
The tragedy of life in the digital age
Instant death at the fingertips of the holder
Captured by the hands of the digital movie maker
Captured for all eternity
One second, one minute, one hour, one day
Just one tragedy amongst a thousand others
It started with the solitary ring
Till a chorus of rings wept into the night and forever more.

Our road trip memories align
as we pass a Farmall tractor,
fire engine red and rooted
roadside in a field of alfalfa,
a relic washed by cloudburst,
a workhorse dried in sunshine,
arrested air stack,
rusted crank case,
supple spider webs
in chaste wheel wells—
immutable old machine
somehow extinguishing
in the reflected acreage
of the rear view mirror.

.

Where will the circus fall,
leaving giraffes homeless,
as pitched tents get pitched
and sideshow freaks
become the norm,
guessing someone’s weight
who doesn’t care

When the sun sets
tablecloth desires
on a silverware runway
with dishes made of gold
and wine glasses half full
are spilled in sad regrets

Will I walk alone
on a cobblestone road,
counting windows without shades
laced with flat screen televisions
tuned to the wrong channel,
reruns in Technicolor

Broadcasting seeded visions
in open fields of tall grass
when Eric Burdon sang
and cherry trees once stood
producing the fruit
of a past I no longer
want to see

Where will the circus fall,
where will I fall

The fire ignites, in my soul,
only you, make me feel this whole,
and I know it doesn't mean a thing
but the thought of it makes my heart sing.
Whether this is wrong or right,
either way, you've made my night

You were the water
   I needed to quench my thirst
   When the desert inside me was too cruel
You are the water
   Found overflowing in my lungs
   Collapsing my breathing, ending my life

He bought his house at an average price
And lives there with his average wife
In his average car with average miles
He ferries around his average child

He'll be the first to admit
His labrador is average thick
In an average job he's kind of stuck
He used to smoke and then he gave up

His average cat has an average tail
Through his door flies average mail
Occasionally he does aspire
To something grander, something higher

But average suits him quite alright
In fact it's really rather nice

To see is to witness
The glory of
broken dreams
Break into a true
Sense of reality

Crushed by the weight
Of dried ink
On red hot paper
Folded into an airplane
Floating far on
Winds of change

Our life is time
And time flows
Slowly at first
Only to rapidly
Accelerate

Redefine ourselves
By the mirrors reflection
Cracks and scars develop
As we apply our
Ritual attraction