Once upon a time
There stood a frigid little snowman
With finger holes for eyes
Which spoke no truth nor lies

Two twigs made his disfigured arms
And a stoll for keeping him "warm"
There he stood with all his smiley charm
From the dusk until the dawn!

His head covered with dad's old beret
And a stalky little carrot nose
Oh yes,He was our brave little snowman
Who grew as he further froze.

Then came the mighty spring
Putting our little snowman at risk!
And then came the sunshine
Leaving only the beret,stoll and the twigs.

Months passed by
Winter came again
And Childern came along
With the Brave little snowman!

rest for now this day
                                     my mind told me
                                     to remain locked
                                     inside these sheets
and let the world remain
unto itself; everything moves too slow
but fast enough to move itself
without me needing
                                     to give it a push

and i am not holding onto any
of the things and promises that once drove me
                             now i am holding onto
a box of memories and everything good
today i do not move for myself
but the earth is moving underneath my feet
                              though i feel stationary
                              i will no longer feel the urge
                              of moving unless it's
                              something good
                like you, or the beach
                this liquor bottle in my palm
                but i will be resting the whole time
                and let the world move me along
                with it

Brain waves sway in this cerebral cyclone.
Eating, breathing, bleeding in a home that isn't my home.
Breathing? BREATHING? What are we doing that for?
Abusing and losing. But who's keeping score?
Racing, chasing, running in a circle now.
The same train of thoughts has fallen off the tracks now.
Trying to abide by all your stupid rules now.
Searching for the answers in a mind that's shut downnnnnnn..

Get me out of this new cerebral cyclone.
Ringing! RINGING! That isn't a telephone!
Air-conditioned suppositions and amenities to die for.
View of the pool and a washer-dryer combo.
It's useless to use this scattered brain jumbled mess.
We go from 60 to zero.

But we wear less to impress.

Now we're preparing to pretend that this isn't the end.
When we know that it's time to detonate.
We hear the wind chime now, it's time to unwind now.
But to be thrown off the rocker' s our fate.

Oh, what we'd give for a sweet cerebral cyclone.
Noisy voices in my head, but at least I'm not alone.
Dreaming.. Dreaming... Leave us on the bathroom floor.
Lovely ****** tub with amenities galore.

She leads with sexuality.
She says "**** me," instead of
hello.
If she says, "I love you already."
don't run away, don't
worry, it only means,
"How was your day?"

It means something
normal.

If she doesn't say it, still, she isn't
normal.

Her eyes begin every sentence with,
"Will you love me?
Will you **** me?
Will you promise to never
leave me?"

And when you say, "Bend over,"
It will mean, "Love you, too."

You used to think *** was love, but
now you know, *** isn't love.
*** is medicine for
sick people.

Your body, naked, shaking, is more of
a multivitamin for sociopaths,
than it is your body.

She leads with sexuality, but
how else should it be felt?
And no, your **** is not big enough
to fill the hole
in her heart.

"hey *******, let's meet"
        i'm glad you've come to that premise
                the rain - its slick concrete
                     and so narrow
               staining the streets,
                  i would shelter you
        but here we are
                at coffee dropping hello's
          and following the pack
             to high ground
i would
keep
my
scarf
wrapped
'round
my
pretty
head
from melting in the rain turning to snow
        but little did i know
          i should have given it to you
to keep you from turning the snow red as strawberries
        these fall days you'll never know, here we go again
                to define a relationship whose particular lusters ferry
                        us together, i don't see an end, but if you bend i'll know when
to go.
i like the way you smile, here in this quiet coffeehouse
        despite you arguing with me, that is the cornucopia i offer