I'm not here to judge
Or to cast my aspersions
I've written my Ameri-cant
And Amerikunt versions
I'm unconvinced
That I'm still alive
But that ****** Orwell
Never wrote 1985

La la la la la
La la la la la
La la la lalla
La la la la la

It's easy to think
We deserve more than this
Epitaphs, gravestones
And **** in the sink
Obits will read
By who we're survived
Ungrateful kids
Born after 1985

La la la la la
La la la la la
La la la lalla
La la la la la

There were sunlit days
Of picnics and balconies
Christmas mornings
And final warnings
And I still remember
The last look you gave to me

And I hope
You're not watching
I cant stomach what you'd think of me
And I know
There's no "do over"
But I'm certain I'm not who I'm supposed to be

All that's left of me

I hope I made you proud
But I'm run over
A burnt picture of a kid in effigy
I took the weight
You taught me to shoulder
I got old and its got harder on my knees

I made mistakes
I'd never dreamed of
Every disappointing decision
I could make
I made my grave
And I hope I have love
To make every ******* choice
Worth its sake

And I hope
You're not watching
I cant stomach what you'd think of me
And I know
There's no "do over"
But I'm certain I'm not who I'm supposed to be

The words I seek
Just escape me
But the meaning is so clear
I try to find the right words
But those words
They disappear

So I speak to you in riddles
Because my words get in my way
I can grasp them for a moment
But they
Always fade away

I scream because
I cant trust myself
And I don't know how to speak
My breath is gone
My voice ripped out
And left bleeding at my feet

And the thoughts
They rise like water
They crest and come crashing down
So lets just sit here
Silently so
I dont have to drown
Hell no

I am nothing more than
Imprisoned in my mind
A voice I once thought reliable
Now determined to stay inside

So sit there frozen
Carved in stone
While we drift farther away
This shattered home
Is just a shallow hole
Words left ruin in their wake

Ruin in
Ruin in
Ruin in their wake

So this is what it feels like winning?
Trumpets sound our victory
I cast out your Light-bringer
So what now
Becomes of me?

You said my name is as Justice
Dared me be worthy of such a charge
I believed a divine purpose
And yet I'm blunting my sword
Is mercy blasphemy?

I've given all I have to give
For Heaven's sake
I'm not seeking your forgiveness
I won't forgive this
I dont want to see you when I wake

You pitted us brother to brother
Tested each our loyalty
Again you do to your subjects
Claiming proof of faith and fealty
- "prove your worth to me"

How can you hold any guilty
When you are pulling all the strings
Strive, struggle, and suffer
Desperation begets rotten things

If this is what's to be heaven
I wont stomach it
I exile myself in shame
For the part I played in shaping this
And Father, you stopped list'ning
But the mortals beg for you to list
If you wont hear them beg salvation
Than Father,
You can take my wings

Die not
And sleepest thou assuredly
That unto death
Still vigil willst I keep
Mighty and deadly
Whispered or strong
When before he comes to you
It is I he will meet
Poor death
Cannot come to you without
taking me
Let him come
I invite his chill breath and
Steel of sythce
On my watch no harm
Willst come to you this night

This is a show off off-broadway
Filled with prose and cause
Complicated expositions
Stranger than fiction ever was

I've auditioned a cast of characters
And never made the lead
Odd for that on these footboards
Are where they were conceived

I know this part by heart
Hell, I wrote the lines
Seeking my Euridice, my Juliet
Cursed to never find

I have no faith in critics
They rarely get the point
And in all the marvelous performances
I am still not "right"

It's gone dark inside my theater now
The cast and audience have all gone
The curtains took their final bow
I'll seek you from the balconies

I've kept the ghostlight on

I think we have a different sort of problem now...
One which has probably always plagued us,
Sometimes its embrace has held hold of us for so long
Realities were changed
The concept of "the other"
A simple idea, that you are not like me
A mechanism of the smallest
Most unevolved parts of our brains
Yet without which we could not "be"
The sense that
I am
The sense that
you are not what I call "me"
The basest recognition that we are different
How simple an idea - independent consciousness
That even genetically identical twins
Can recognize themselves from each other
"The other"
We've weaponized this basic perceptual function
Since the very dawn of our species
And through complexities of
Environment
Genetic bottlenecks
Genocides
We are all "I" now
Nearly 9 billion "I"s
All seeking an ability to be "we"
That is the basic function of civilization
To define "me" among the "we" and split our burden of work
For the greater survival of the "us"
But "us" is so much weaker than "we"
"Us" desperate in our divisions still seeking to be "I"
In a complex infrastructure that "me" can be a part of "we"...
This is how humanity is gas-lit and misled
Told to always be seeking, and never to be sought,
And if the "I" of a "me" is charismatic enough...
"We" let them lead "we" and in doing so
define an "us"
For now
Civilization must be governed
but "we" continue to give away all of our "I"s
to be "me" among the "we"
In theory to push "us" to progress
It's why terrorism has the wrong name
Each ruling faction in history
Was a "terrorist" to someone else
- to have made someone afraid
"Terrorism" seems to declare that the objective
Is nothing more than fear - so reductive
A sentiment to dehumanize their "us"
and label their "we" - "them"
To make their "we" less than our "us"
I prefer Organized Non-Unified State Actors (ONUS)
"Terrorism" sounds like an individual act
Coordinated by a conspiracy of individual acts
Robbing "their" identities of recognition
- which is probably what it all is ultimately about to begin with
"They" do not fit the fold of the agreements of the many civilized "we"s and want to be their own "us"
But there is no room, resource,
There is no time
Food
Water
"We" have already identified, occupied, and commodified
Every resource for an unaligned "us"
"You" must be "we" for your share and to survive
"Their" methods are poorly rationalized, but very intelligent
Bad intellect and severe commitment
"We" dream of conspiracy to make "our" "us" look capable
But their "us" is organized and capable
If "we" ever want to end terrorism
"we" need to call it what it is
Revolution with no vacancy
Organized groups of disuinified elements taking action
It doesnt matter that the "they" may not reach "their" goals
- "they" dont have enough "we"s on their team
"They" make "we" hurt
And shame "them" for it, ignorant to their "us"'s hurt
I am not making excuse or any compassion
for those among the universal "us"
Humanity, sapiens,
Who cannot get on board with "we"
because the most of the "we"s decided this is how it will be
And it is broken
And it is wrong
And there are many hurt
But "us" lives in a universe
finite in 'isms confined to our limited time
So as much as I or any "me" tries to recognize an ONUS
in the attempt of just being seen by "we"
It is always "the other", how are "they" unlike "me"
Not what do both "we"s share.
The world's greatest collection of "we"
Wrote arbitrary rules rules of "us" in this time
That "they" isn't yet a "we" for all
"we" are not yet "us"... too many "we"
too many poisoned by "me"
and worse
entitled by "I"
When "we" do we dont need lables anymore
Race, theology, gender - ways to describe "the other"
That will be a beautiful day
When the sun rises on a dead rock
Condemned to death by fire in unyeilding climate change
And then further pushed to annihilation by nuclear winter
Robert Frost was right
The world will end in Fire and Ice

I used to think I knew what to think
Reading too many books and stuffing my opinions
Never having lived them

But then you'd meet me in my basement
And you coyly asked me how my day went
Shyly loving the attention

I'm tired of playing chump
Every time that you hook up
FOMO as God's playing favorites
From my place down in the pavement
I know that nice guys finish last
Chivalry's best left in the past
While you SIMP for all them
I'm a shmuck but a gentleman

I give you my coat
Hold you close
Provide you comfort when you're crying
Let you get drunk
Drive you home
Each time you break up with that guy again
I'd jump out the shower
Just to buy you flowers
When he forgets your birthday, he's no gentleman
You deserved better than him

Since we were 17 we were always such a team
Just like Buffy's Scoobies
or too many John Hughes movies
And over the years when we'd lose touch
I just wasn't friend enough
For both of us to keep up
With all our changing scenes

I hope you don't feel something missing
With your second husband and your children
You don't find a missing laugh
When you cant find that photograph
I was just a place and time
Best left only to my mind when you've forgotten me
The gentleman, your best friend

I'd still give you my coat
Off my back
In the middle of a snowstorm
I don't even know you now
I'd still pick you up when
your car breaks down
Deliver you safe home
From wherever you roam
I'd jump the next flight
If you call and say you need me
No matter how far we may be, I'm still your gentleman

Hug your husband, kiss your kids
You are still a piece of me and until my end
I'm your gentleman
I wish we were still friends
Some cliche about lost time
Another dumb story or bad rhyme
Insert lame joke here, my dear

Darker lines
Less and greyer hair,
Maybe I'm a little more distinguished
I got this far
Because you were there
I took too long to say I still care
I'm soaking towels every hour
to stop my burning bridges
and I am missing you
my friend
Signed, your gentleman

I swear I have your birthday gift on my amazon
Was gonna dress it up pretty just to get your smile on
I swear it just fell off my radar
I can have it here next week if you just wait a little more

Too many bad days made the nights long
And I fell off beat like a bad song
Hit the fast forward button with a 12 pack
Every moment for the last two weeks
I wished I had Tivo on this life TV
I wish I'd rewind and take them moments back

Just to see you smile again
To not be this ****** boyfriend

Sorry I was late tonight picking you up
But I was still working off last night's drunk
Rage cleaning the house
So you'd have something to be proud of me about

Said you had a headache and went to bed early
I stayed up late getting lost in drowning my angry
In too many cups, rhythms, and beats
Trying to make myself tired enough to sleep
Next to you not wanting me

I wanted to meet you in the middle
And we could agree I **** just a little
I'd give you some private time
To maybe get your sync back with mine

Just to see you smile again
And not be this ****** boyfriend

Everything I did I said I did for us
But I was deaf to your screaming its too much
And no matter which way I slice it now
I ****** it all up and we found out

And I'll never see your smile again
Because I was that ****** husband.

In all the apologies I could put in a letter
The thought that keeps clawing at me
Is you should've known better
I used to wear my heart on my sleeve
You knew what to expect of me
Until the day you chose to leave

I thought I left you buried
Beneath barrels of ***
Hundreds in sums
Meters of shame and grief
But you keep visiting me when I sleep
I cant even bear to dream
Soaked in sweat beneath my sheets

And now you're the spectre I see in the mirror
A poltergeist waiting for me to fear her
But I knew who you were all along
And I'm left with your memory
Someone you quite never were
But what I've made you to be
Who I wanted you to be

I used to think I was clever
Blowing out candles before the shadows
Could make me face forever
I knew how to bleed
In lines of poetry
Scattered on the floor in front of me

And each one of you is a wraith
Endlessly screaming your name
Speaking tounges in my brain
Ruining my headspace
But I cant usher you out
My body's become your haunted house

And you wont leave me
Or leave me be
Some apparition in between who you were
And someone I imagined
The walls keep moving
And the shutters keep the lights out
You've become the ghosts
In my haunted house

I kept my skeleton in my closet
But you had the master key and unlocked it
And when you bailed on me you let the monsters out
Left me to be alone in my haunted house
A ghost stuck in a meat machine
With perfect imperfect memory
Of how the victim must have been me
But like Amityville I drove you out
To justify the things I feel right now
They may have been creeping on for far too long
Saying let me haunt my ******* house

Its been far too long
Since I was left to learn to love myself
What did you expect
If I cant love anyone else
You never once told me love is like a song
That if I whistle or hum
It doesn't matter if I woodwind or drum
Someone will play along
I played to my heartbeat
But the arrhythmia was wrong

But Im a rogue line stuck in the refrain
Coda
Im a rogue line stuck in the refrain
Coda, Coda? [Jim, take out the bottom and reverb]
And I feel it in my pulse
I know that I'm alone
Stuck between my teeth
Its no wonder I cant speak.

In every block you hit,
You turned me into coin
When I burn it down, every pitfall
Couldn't catch that vine
The 8-bit ******* was meant to die

Put up with every danger
Too many times to be clean
I bleached blood off my sheets
From our injuries
I invited "you" to inflict on me

And for all my knowledge
Brought by books and bruises
"You" unrequited me... why?
Justify an existence when no one should be this..
In every "the end" you leave me...
Lady Chatterly...
My conscience cant decide
Who suffered more in this

I can not convince you
I'm the one you're looking for
You will always look me over
Like the Ducky you must ignore
You cant be persuaded
I was better left for dead
But you still find me
Dig-dug me up to bind me
In our "pet" semmatary
I cannot imagine
The suffering you've survived
To be patient enough
To surprise me.

One day when the photographs start to fade
We'll look on the patina
And reflect
"At least we made them"
"Maybe they'll be better than us"
We'll say, to the Polaroids and our progeny
And they will be our legacy
Reflections of you and me
Tattered negatives of wishes
Viewfinder images of the kids
I wont live long enough to leave

Stained curtains and ruined sheets
Stained curtains and ruined sheets
Stained curtains and ruined sheets

Only because
Only when
You could love me.

I had heart surgery when I was 38, OK
I was actually 37 but somehow 38 sounds better
As if those few extra months arent walking me to my demise
I didnt expect to live past 20 so I've been on borrowed time
For the last 10 years I've been an alcoholic
Misanthropic, and full of vitriol
Sometimes you made me laugh but I get why you dont call
Some days I can forget you, sometimes I cant at all
Its been two years since you ghosted and somedays I still wake up and wonder why
Then I look in the mirror and I know that you were right
For all the pain and how much I bury the dark
You saw right through me and knew that I was lost
And things arent good now but they're getting better
I keep searching for a new you and a way to be put together
You were the glue that stuck the little pieces
Im a ******* humpty dumpty and all the kingsmen cannot retrieve me
So I keep moving forward because I dont know what else to do
I have sleepless nights soaked in sweat and I'm askew
Its hard to go to work buried in anxiety and depression
If I believed in god I'd be asking what's the lesson
6 more years until I return to the last place I was happy
I hope somebody wants to join that adventure
I spend too much time in my feels and know I'm sappy
I'm too pragmatic and know I'm a bad investment
Im a middle aged angry alcoholic
I stay up late hoping somebody will call
But I wont answer my phone, I dont deserve to feel alright
I've stolen hours from too many others and I am on borrowed time

I see threads
Leftover tokens
From where she wept
And you keep giving side-eyed energy
As if you weren't the one to leave

And I remember each sad line
Read from her diary
Every time
Reaching out
Desperate to breathe

I've known more than
A thousand sunrises,
Ruined by sunsets
And a hundred melodies
Ruined by your need to leave

When we met
Bards and satire were unequipped
You breathe deep
Life into all of your stories...


I keep trying to find my worth
And I haven't found its place just yet
Somewhere destined for your memory

And someday when youre asleep
Long after you've forgotten me
I will remain, alive
Within your damp sheets

And you can be brought
To screaming through the night
But the ride of your life
Will die with me
Your favored enemy.

I keep coming up to that line
And I cross it every time
Because you cant force yourself to regret
What you dont know about you yet
Its taken everything from me
Stolen every one of my beliefs
But when everything's empty
You are finally honest

Let the pain rise
Like a tidal wave
When you survive
Its a good night
Let your feet wash in the undertow

I keep chasing that horizon
The just over yonder
Through forests and the fields
And wherever I wander
In every ancient ruin
I get why they stopped moving
Not ***** traps to behead
We just don't deserve the knowledge yet

Let the pain rise
Look to the skies
Sacrifice a ******
Maybe we'll be worthy
To keep crossing the line
Chasing the divine
Maybe its a sign
That we haven't found it yet

Let the waves rise
Like a tidal wave
Erasing all our mistakings
And giving new life
To the same flawed morons
Who will disappoint us everytime
Who are we to have survived
When we keep
Crossing the line

Someday you'll remember me
And it will have felt like mistaught chemistry
But when you struggle to not forget my name
Know that I'll be doing us the same
And the Once Upon a Time that could've been ours
With hookers, blackjack, and cigars
Disappeared instead into fractured memory
A faded name you just cant quite see

I wrote you love songs before we met
And you don't really even know me yet
But before too long you'll bail on me
A tryst turned joke I don't find funny
But for all the times you rose and fall
And I changed my sheets
You'll forget them all
A memory just left with me...
Amnesia is my jealousy

You always said I talk too much
I cared too much for it to be not enough
I'd never be your goth girlfriend
Wrong equipment
And too out of trend
But despite your flaws
I was willing to fall
I bared my own and offered a few more...

But you fall, I fall, we all fail
We fall apart, we want and hail
We want different things
The age and all... it didn't need to look like this.

And someday you might remember me
I could've been your next catastrophe
Or left me be to my bitter cynical destiny.

The kids were singing
Jesus Saves
But I must have missed him when he came
I probably passed out on alcohol
Or hit my head and had a fall
But what was left when I woke
Doesnt feel like love at all

I just cant get around it in my mind
Those winged cowards left us behind
If this is whats left of life now
I hope that heaven keeps me out

Have a tap dance party on my grave
**** it, do some drugs, throw a rave
So sing along as I scream and shout
The world's gone deaf
And we're gonna drown

And I dont want hell to let me in
Not that Im above or better than sin
But ash to ash and dust to dust
Best better bet to let my body rust

The kids were singing
Jesus Saves
I'd rather gamble with the devil
If he comes my way
Im no angel to rise or fall
I dont want anything at all

Let divinity take me
Dispose of me and lead into
The nothing that I seek
Just count me out

If I could erase time
What would take it's place
Nature abhors a vacuum

If I ceased to exist
How many lives did I save
How many failures might be
For someone else to achieve
How many wrongs did I right
How many times was I wrong
Bards and tapestries
Scribes, artists, historians, scholars, and weavers
What would inspire them
How many stories have I left untold
How many stories could have been mine
Or maybe today is just a bad day

If I could erase time
I can only think of one thing
Worthy in it's place
Intuition, emotion, truth,
Are too grand and obscure in concept
To be deserving
Id replace time with an instant
Described maybe by only three words

You and me.

I scream every night
Sometimes out loud
To the shadows and whispers
To strangers and passers by
Sometimes its Shakespeare or Poe
Yelling into the darkness
In the desperate attempt to claim
This life is mine
And you will witness me
I scream every night
Every night
Even when my own muffled voice
Quieted by reluctance
Anxiety
Sometimes its in my sleep
I wake up regularly
In pools of sweat
And my own salty leavings
However much I do my laundry
My sheets are always damp
With "this is me"

The epics and opus
The ouvre and the frey
The bastille and the bastion
The adept and ashamed

But who are we
In the frames of history we felt
How can we judge our present or past selves
When our weakness has always been information
Who we are now
What we believe
What we should be
Who we become
Come tomorrow
No longer valid
And relent
The past creeps up on us
And sometimes we were wrong
We were wrong
That you'd learn with us

Once in a generation
A poison is brewed
So deep with temptation
By the brewers
That the sweet deeps of sleep
That it promised
Could question our own moral bonds
And yet we will continue to pay
Humanity comes with a tax
Those with the knowing
Owe to the ignorant
And to take profit is worth reticence

In times of trial,
Its true to remain neutral and
To seek to redeem each side
When the use of that very trial
Is weaponized
You must revolt
You must revolutionize

Im tired of standing and watchin
Sam Vimes,
I know you're here with me.
I have not much left in my life to fight
But they can take it from me.

How do they rise
How do they rise
All of your angels,
How do they rise
They lift their heads up
They lift their heads up
And they rise
See how they rise.

Simple songs were always the most defeating -
And they said bard magic was silly.

Did you notice the sunset tonight
The purples or crimsons in the skies

Did you see the shoreline's greens
Turn to blue under moonlight

Did you catch that breath of air
Fresh on the high tide seas

Did you notice when I walked away
Or even see me leave

When sometimes you get lost
I'd only hope you'd find me

But my bedside is cold
And my tender heart too weak

So I let you go
Before you have the chance to leave

And we both know
That this was temporary

Did you ever make a choice
Well intentioned
Did you ever give violence a voice
That set things in motion
Did you ever watch when
I lit the sparks
Did you ever see
Look deep
Was it a candle?
Was it a sparkler?
How long did we watch it burn?
Look in the flame
Watch it burn a little longer
Search for the blame
Watch the wick release.
And once the fuse starts to ignite
Casting new shadows
I never wrote a song long enough to survive
Dynamite.
Once a flicker in the dark
A shimmer scared of the spark
The flame runs away
And it chases her through her veins
Out of pure devotion
The fire says
You set this in motion
No forest can ever breathe
Without my last breath
To crack the strongest seed
Somewhere within every cigarette
You ask for me
And you will blame me
In this I grieve.
Fire made wild by a passion
To turn away our eyes
When we'd prefer to be blind
Keep in mind
My embers are all that I leave behind
"Wildfire" is what you'll call me
When your lives are in commotion
Remember just once that life that was mine
You set in motion.

Im sorry I've forgotten you
When you brought to me so much meaning
I cannot recall your name
But hear your words like breathing
A few vacant phrases
Punctuated by lines imprinted still
Each chord caught in a whistled melody
The gaps I cant fill

I cannot forgive you
For not forgetting me
Settled, a consistent reminder
Of a once promised harmony

But the drum beats echo like tip toes
On a "Fosse" glossed frame
Slipping and sliding
Never to be with me whole again
And maybe this is the first look
At a future that destines me

A plaintive consideration for what's left of my memory
Or a record more broken by forcing the needle to read it

But I apologize to you
And to those which made you to be
For how much you've shaped me
Your details escape my memory

Assured I will find them
Or replace them with what I thought they were
You can bet as a guarantee
I'll only miss or be off a few words.

Oppenheimer knelt before death as the destroyer of worlds.
As only Ozymandius stood previously.
He was anointed, and found guilty
The curse to challenge and defy Death's wisdom and mercy...
To usurp "the bringer"
Required only a more certain demise
Several had met the challenge to arrive on the Black Dais,
But death himself remained triumphant
Asbestos, mesothelioma, lawyers,
Each took their place but never challenged Perdition directly
Until one so overtook him
Hell shook Oppenheimer from it's shoulders
The place itself defying it's judges.
Discarding death with him
Oppenheimer - prime acolyte of the light
Who could best even death at being the inevitable and unenviable end
Except life and light herself
Vitae stood guilty in her own judgement
Dismissing the darkness into half-forgotten memory
A shade now unchallenged, an undeniable answer
Her frail form untethered, and expanding into decay.
Vitae cleft her left arm
Forming it into an inkwell
And shaping her right into a quill
She began to write her story again...
"Let there be light"



We must go on

The snow falls like gossamer
All over the ground
A white winter landscape
With joy all around
Be merry and gleeful
With you and your kin
I'll be inciting mayhem
With my agents of sin

You can keep your young Jesus
and his ol' deadbeat dad
Keep your fat, jolly santa
and his red, leath'ry ol' bag
My sleigh's an old buick
Tricked out with such kit
It makes Captain Kirk's warp drive
An old *******

Merry metal christmas
And a ****** new year

Gather yon virgins
Round the lit evergreen
A more perfect self-sacrifice
I never have seen
Like roasting chestnuts
Their bodies will burst
Smelling of bacon and pine
A potpurrie in a hearse

And sing in the madness
Bring in the new year
A rage of songs and of fury
A purge Christmas's cheer

Merry metal Christmas
And a ****** new year

Kids asleep in their beds
Dreaming of sugarplums
They asked for an xbox
But I brought them guns
Spiked milk and *** cookies
Are fuel for the trip
Huffing tinsel to forget
How fast amazon ships

So beckon your best angels
With your red-ribbon-ed wreathes
While your racist old uncles
Drink, curse, and deceive
My iron reindeer
Care not for north poles
My midgets care not dig
F'r the kids deserving of coal

Merry metal Christmas
And a ****** new year

Wrap yourself in warm blankets
Watch old family films
Drink chocolate and eggnog
Until you've had your fill
When by embers of chimneys
And stockings carefully hung
Muddy footprints by presents
Are proof that someone had come

Fire and burgl'r alarms
Sound out through the night
Telling to one and to all
Have a ******* good night

Merry metal Christmas
I'll see you next year.

I hit the ground running
What else was I supposed to do
When I fell
Every thought in me
All that I believed
Said
I should have seen this coming.

But where were you
Who were you
Who was it I thought you would be
What did I expect you to do
Who were you...
Who was this "you" in my memory
A perfect stranger
Or maybe me

What did I expect
Was myself not enough to survive the storm
When I asked you and you held me up
Did I expect that you had some deeper knowledge
-- did you know me
-- did you see me for who I am... not who you thought I should be

Give it up, Ive had enough,
I drink too much to believe in belief
I am my worst enemy above even your worst
Criticality
So take a breath and walk away...
Maybe just let me breathe.

Never knowing just what you have, love
Could have (should've) been us... or maybe just me
But we'll see through tide and shore,
But when we sail in with flags shoal-masted
Even the ITC cant prove anyone living still rides with me.

To recognize our shared demise...
Could we - embitter expectations ?
Are they better than you?
Are they any better than me?

They... need (songs to keep the weary alert at sea)
They need to be better than we.

In all my songs and all my stories
I told the crowd how "she" might end with me
Or maybe end me

But are
These just dreams
That still
Let her hurt me
Do
I will let her hurt me

But no
Whisper you're safe
You own your memr'y,  mind and choice or cost to your faith
Mystical and whimsy
Or are we my enemy
Maybe me

Time is a convenient tragedy
And I play witness to this evening's mystery
Inconvenient but always complicit company.
We were never meant to be

We,
Me.
You.
I... half drunk, half hallucinating, half angry - Who can I blame for not being me?

All the same but I maybe somebody.

We were never meant to be recognizable
never meant to be anybody you can acclaim
on the most current, convenient, complicity capitulated captivation of cognitive, but captured and categorized component of your human experience...

Now I'm
Someone you cant recognize
Me
But now I'm now
Almost 40
And its always just been us.

(I'm 3 years to 41
who should I have become)

And what do I have to show
a body left too long in the undertow
This decomposing
This wreckage left of me

If in the last breaths I breathe
My history comes haunting me
There are 8 women I thought could love me

Yet today I can still recall the first
Her name like silver dripping onto silk
How her voice burned in through memories
And she's still here with me
I rode my bike by your house

And the second, like every second after
I painted you inside my head

The rest of this story, and I am sorry will drive you into a never ending loop of pity and tragedy and only one of us gets out alive...


We'll see if you can find any reference of me in three years.

There is a work of words, clumsily compiled, that I may eventually build with enough confidence to post or at least speak publicly - about my grandmother. She was the last of my grandparents to pass, but not even the last of my parents. We ideologically disagreed virulently... but I am starting to see that maybe my father's legacy of doing good and getting ******* around every corner but persevering anyway... may be a gift from both sides of my family. 93, I think she was 93. Two careers, 3 children, 5 grand children, 2 great grandkids.

It may be that her loss is so recent, or that the last 8 years through trauma, surgery, and recovery - being with her was more difficult, and I was also so far away. After losing my father, and never having been afforded the opportunity to decide for myself  how I wanted to remember him, I reflect that maybe I could've spent more time with her - a conscious regret calcified by how difficult it became to talk to her more than a few minutes when I did. Those brief moments of recognition were like trying to watch someone using a fly-swatter in a hurricane of history - desperate to maybe, if lucky, remember me.

Those moments were so different from the hundreds of hours of conversation. When we would have lunch, just she and I - and SHE insisted that any words expressed between us remained only hers and mine... an honor I have always kept sacred.

I said at her funeral that she was a constant source of council, regardless our inability to find common ground on things like faith and "right".

It's weird that I may only be handling this now, but I think I understand her better than I did. To live that long, to experience so much... I am not sure I will ever have the clarity of spirit or the bravery of self to suffer so much for so long and still inspire so many. It was no accident that she was everyone's grandma - she did that on purpose, and we had better give her credit for that.

Im envious of Bermuda.
Her triangle is so deeply recognized.
I am caught in the "this is me now" in the face of who I should've been, and who I thought I'd be.
Cathedrals stacked to the stars
Like for Margaret.
And that you don't know this reference is the perfect epithet.
But how can I place my weight against the scale?
Imperial? Metric? Metaphysical?
What is the search for a sense of self
If not a desperate notion to understand our gravity?
I'm grave, for the far too many I've buried and the far more whom found a mausoleum in me, secure in my secrets.
In theory buried with me, but buried within me, and that is far too great a weight to put on dirt and rock and mantle.
I won't be buried.
Not because I could not keep them but because of kindness in grief, and in the ground isn't safe for these stories to rest, lest, and list - oh list... they die with me never to be uninterred by graverobbers or corporate land barons seeking to build a new golf course.
If the earth had to bear the gravity of conscious existence, she would implode like a fledgling star.
I doubt humans are alone in the universe, but I'd honestly get it - such a mistake...
For evolutionary crafted monkees to dare say this is Me and bend the world and rules around us, mostly by seeking an understanding of those rules...
And then turning them to profit. How human.
Fools, all of us.
Slaves, indentured to the tide of society.
I thought the progression of civilization was to move forward.
The things we'd learned from the dark ages - foolish and desperate attempts to cling to what we thought of as power.
But what happens when power evolves?
It certainly has exceeded us by the boundless laws of physics.
We relent and release in deference to the "please lead me" through questionable times
No one questioning that we brought this unto ourselves
A marooned ship a mile from paradise but destined it it's ignorance to sink.
Nothing, spirit or body, would intelligently design this.
At the very least if the concept of God was not just metaphorical but an ecumenical argument that we should be better...
Why the need to argue at all?
We are perfect imperfections of random chance and about 4 pounds
Of mostly wet pretty much bacon
Electrified like an sophomoric Frankenstein
And most of us haven't even read Mary Shelley
We are a species so magnetic to ourselves.
Watch what we can do.
Even if we shouldn't do it.
Maybe I'll just do it to see what my neighbor does.
And so the echelons grow.
To a maximum order of magnitude 13.
If everyone tells two friends
And those two can only tell two others
With no repeats
Only 13 times can a story be shared before it exceeds the maximal population of our planet.
Only 13 times can a paper be folded in half until you breach space.
Life...
It's a poorly dreamed up pyramid scheme.

I am not who I thought I'd be
Sure I look a little like John McClane now
If he'd birthed Gary Busey.
An unrelenting action hero
That finds "action" an unlikely filter too far from reality, and "hero" a notion so freely given that societally we have reduced what it was meant to mean.
Heroes used to be subjects of admiration
That which inspired aspiration in our youths (utes- some of you get it)
But the title of "hero" was an impermanent...

(Character) is a hero (timeline) for doing (x)

Yet it becomes their lifelong nomination to the firmament of history.
How many of our "heroes" died on crosses only to reveal skeletons (a lot) or journal pages of moments?
How many times have "heroes" been exposed as nearly inexplicable excellence deposed by the consequence of inconvenient fact?

{This guy did a super awesome thing... but oh, wait - no... don't Google, he's really a *******}

That achievement, as laudable as it should be, is no replacement for an expectation to be human.. to be in spite of being.

Athletes, actors, poets, and songwriters, producers, investors, and attorneys who all say "you're going to do great kid", who support you right up until the moment you aren't doing great... or in reality: they're about to get "me too"-ed. {I desperately want to call it moo-ed}

It's not an accident that every movie is familiar and every song sounds the same except the few artists who stake their own vulnerability - it's a badly written matinee.

[Like trying to make those words rhyme]

If we sound or seem mundane, it's because you, the sheeple, conditioned to show contrition at the steeple, believe it to be a reflection of your pain.
We've crafted a carefully cultivated currency of resistance in the constant contentious, captivating and  licensious, breeding and ever feeding, consumers of today... to tell you all to stop listening to us.

And stop smoking cigarettes <wink>.

Taylor Swift, America's sweetheart and a genuinely talented songwriter keeps writing songs about why you should stop listening to her. And that none of you get "it" is probably why I never will.

It's more subtle now. The punk and post punk movements of the pixies and velvet underground refaced the pavements surreptitious to what "adults" then thought was "a wall of sound".
But what is punk now except an exposition of 30 somethings trying to find the after hours after party, even literally underground? Or just go to bed?

We cannot even have an open discussion without being so hurt we have to find private corners to complain about anyone who disagrees with "me"
Never giving credence or understanding of what "me" means...

It's nothing. History will forget you as I hope it forgets me. The only thing I hope is that a few people read my lines, I might help shape a few minds, and I might live forever in the national archives - the pages of memory.

Terrible people are capable of great things
Just as every person history records as great...
Just as all "Great people" have all done horrific things.
No exceptions.

I may have been seeking
A perfect disaster
Thats where I found you
Poring through the files in the evidence room

Swipe right, its like a mirror
You're my reflection
In the beautiful fractals of broken stained glass
A composite of missed memories and failing to act

But I
Keep callin you "lady",
But thats a stretch like calling me a "gentleman"
I am a perfect *******
That's what you're after
Baby I'd be your "*****" if only you'd let me in

A thousand times I should've known
I should have felt
The thousand times without.
For the misplaced faith in a wraith I couldn't doubt...

My own feeling left me reeling
For me to tell the one story,
I'd left untold
And I can never know - if I was right...

I dreamt a hundred lives
And in each time
I never saw your face...

You were here with me from the beginning
Maybe a reflection of my ghost
Or I was too young for me to place you.

On and on.

But I chased you well.
I told the stories
In poems, songs, in visions
In theories, in ev'ry mis-decision
I keep you alive in every lie
In every breath that claims that I
I believe

Did you know that I drowned...
Twice?

You are my hidden face
Wittness to my unveiled disgrace
I was once asked in all my songs
Who were "you"

My unseen mistress
My forgiveness,
My implacabal
Agressive shadow

My insecure insignificant
My insight
Myself deplorable
An adorable
A beautiful disaster

And we slept
So many nights
In each other's comforting arms
And I invited you in
Without a fight
But thats all you left in me

... the FIGHT

My disgraceful, irreplaceable
My exoneration,

my desperation, my displacement,
my revelations...

My whimsical
Mystical, quixiotical
My enervation...

Disgraceful, irreplaceable, it's not just distrust,
Its ireedemable

You're my,

Captivated, and one day they'll maybe see
You've always been me

My inescapable

"you"

You...
Feel the ***** of your feet
Each step painting a tapestry
Each breath left unnoticed
Each move unrelenting...

Neither of us
Wished I were here

What should've been a revival
became default to a recital
And every pirouette
A moment none of us
Should have missed
... and I'm no better

I'd've penned you letters
Each with the broken, desperate intent
And secret hope, you'd just throw it away

But I can feel in each poissson
As i fish for every moment you've lost
And the tilte barre
Cant fulfill your absent tomorrows
I could have staged for you
an "I'm sorry"

Now every time I hear your laugh
In playback or live from a hundred miles
Your giggles reignite in me
A flame through a negative
The moments as they might be
But here we are
And where we both were left to be

I had a normal day once...
I suppose that depends on how you define "normal".
And I think it was a Tuesday,
But that depends on what a Tuesday is, or means, or if our Tuedays have ever meant the same things.
It was late spring. April, maybe May.
But it was a steamy Tuesday, the first angry sun after a rain.
And the only thought that occupied my mind that day,
Suspiciously
Surreptitiously
In that moment and in my memory...
Was how the uneven earth felt beneath my feet
As I, solo, explored the woods beyond the shopping plaza across the street
And it might have been or may still be the last normal day for me
On some random Tuesday, two decades ago
In April or maybe May.

My intellect has served me only a level of awareness of the fragility
Of our world... bonded pieces tethered together
By the bubblegum and handshakes, and gentleman's agreements of
Violent, un-gentle men
Lost in time to a group-think long rumored to be extinct
Rumors whose purpose serve only to palliate the weariness of consumers
To keep the market machine spinning
But whose ideals every decade or so resurfaces to strike bold into each generation that our history is not as clean as
The books, and songs of the "good ol days" mislead us to believe
And to raise the rancor of the awakened shouting into choruses of their own voices carrying the same message of resist
And whose fervor is cartooned as extremist
It is said the entitlement of the peaceful to sleep sound at night
Is owed to the will of brave men who stand ready to deliver violence
On their behalf
But whose iron sights and guided bombs increasingly shift focus to the not-entirely-innocent
Whose guilt by association signed in iron pen their death warrants by foreign manipulators claiming liberation
They know what's best, after all
My intellect has served only to deliver this life of anxiety, in the pursuit of happiness.

Die Welt
Die Welt fällt um uns herum
Und Splitter
Splitter reißt durch die Luft
Und wir stehen
Denn es gibt kein Versteck
Aber die Liebe
Die Liebe wird uns dort beschützen

Und wir küssen uns
Als ob nichts passiert wäre
Und die Bomben
Fallen Sie weit zur Seite
Und die Kugeln
*******nicht so erschreckend
Und nichts so Auffälliges
Wie die Verlangsamung der Zeit

Und die Nacht
Die Nacht bricht um uns herum ein
Wegbrechen
Bis zum Morgengrauen kommt Licht
Wie der Rauch
Der Rauch setzt sich um uns herum ab
Wir stehen immer noch
Zur Niederlage beider Seiten

Dann sind wir helden
Nur diesen Tag

Und wir sind dann Helden
Nur für diesen Tag

For time to be so temporal
For life to be so livable
This is too much
Enough of this captiulation
And scrificial commesuration
Grief and pity not longer
Share separate identity
Words we have spoken
Betray the prophesies written
And the ghosts and shadows of the past
Dictate that which will pass
Angst not on display
Is quietly suffered
While those whose voices do expel
The wanton verbosity signifying nothing
Do similarly nothing to quell
A riotius symptom of revolution
Erased by untenable conclusions
Simply delay and unite
If they are not loath to invite
The most unquietous suspect
Public dissolusion.

Its nigh on nine
In the evening.
And I for the first time in too long
Feel each heart beat leave
This frail form
Never to be heard again.
And they are all different
And some have gone unnoticed
Sadly the preservation of life
Sometimes bears no witness.
The meticulous muscle un-felt
As it pounds against all
The could've been-s and maybes.
Each gasping for the air
My lungs are the warden to disperse.
Held in a prison of bone and flesh
Unseated and riled at the mildest stimuli
Beating their own rhythm
A pendulum marking its own time.
The clock is broken and never to repeat
And each beat is a second closer to its last
It is in the dim candlelight and shadow
That it screams the loudest.
Why is a heartbeat so unforgiving
And yet so unrelenting
That at moments of peace we're hardly aware its there?
And why when shadows cross a wall
In a cast of two dimensional players
Does it cheer so?
Sometimes it is as if
It will break free from my breast
And beat no longer
I can only hope
That when it leaves
Its in a rage of songs and fury
And its departure does not go unnoticed.

Ante, Shuffle, Deal me in
You should know that I came to win
Perfect smile, low cut dress
You'll reveal everything
Cut the deck and deal the cards
I cant win until this thing starts
We both know this is my last game

Place your bets, raises, calls
I bet my blind you're a queen of hearts
Pocket Aces, bluff and call
I'd chase the river from this start
No one wins until one of us ends
Play the slow game and stay your hand
There's no way I can lose this game
My chips are all in when you're playing with my heart

I chased my queen down the river
*** commited and I'm all in
Cashing in on my losings
Neither of us can ever win
We could run away together
We'd have to leave right now
Let them chase us for forever
And burn this card house down

Time to make a decision
This has gone on way too long
Stay, fold, or raise me
Cant hide behind your cards
When you gave me your heart, baby
You said it was safe to play
But my hearts set on arson
And you love this game

Burn the card, throw the flop
Every tell reveals what your chasing
Say the words, we can stop
Let my jack baby be your king
After this we wont be the same
I'm the wildcard you cant tame
If we'd both win I'd throw the game
I would.

Texas-hold my
broken heart
We were always meant to end like this
A game of chance,
a deck of cards
Our love staked on a
game -  of - risk
What the hell,
just roll the dice
Someone else could be just as nice
No more buy backs,
you cant re-buy-in
I'll burn this house down to ensure the house never wins

I'll chase my queen down the river
I committed and went all in
Now I'm cashing in on my losings
Cause its like I never win
We can run away together
We'd have to leave right now
We'll run until forever
And let them chase us down

Time to make a decision
We're both sick of playing games
Thought I'd win on the gamble
I wont buy your poker face
You've got a decision, baby
I've loved you from the start
Or is everything I've dreamed of
A bad hand of cards

(Your clever highness
usher out the bards
try to hide the bluff in
hide the bluff in your house of cards)

Time to make a decision
It'll never be the same
Thought I played a safe gamble
But you lit the flame

You decide if we chase the river
And if you'll lose this game
But if you're gonna chase that rabbit
This house - goes up - in flames

Chase me to the river
It'll cost you everything
Chase me for forever
But you know I'm all in

You've got to make a decision
I've loved you from the start
Or is everything I've played for
A bad hand of cards

I've lived for a thousand years.
The thing about immortality...
You dont get to live
And you dont get to die.

You just watch.
As everyone you know
Lives... and leaves.

The people that I admire most;
The ones who have made immortality
Less painful...

Were the ones who,
Even for the briefest moment,
Allowed me to live in those years
With them
Not beyond them.

Who allowed me not to think
Without guilt
Of a future without them in it,
Or how I will someday have to deal with their loss.
How I,
Will have to keep living.

I dont know any cool pickup lines,
I stole them from TV
Hey baby do you have the time?
You just walked away from me

Im not cool or smooth
And I'm not slick
And I need to think of something quick

He didnt write for you, that punk rock love song,
He stole it from the Byrds
He just changed the chords
And never bothered to learn the words

But he's got you hooked
Your pulse
Is racing

You know that hes a traitor
He's a one-track trouble maker
And he's rotten company

But he's got you in his sights
You're going home with him tonight
Another loveless casualty

He keeps you coming back for more but now
Hes into someone new
He changed the locks on both my doors
So I guess that means we're through

But baby dont go,
He isn't home
And I'm waiting

I know that he's a traitor
A true master debater
Such sincere insincerity
Without hesitation
Standing in ovation to
Your perfect symmetry

We'd take it slow
But we both know
He's waiting

You know that hes a traitor
Silver tounged negotiator
And he's plotting mutiny
You dont know him quite like I do
Once he's had his way, he'll leave you
To a taxi company
And he's immune to my handy remedy,

Just come inside, he asks persuadingly
But you, you're thinking of me

Just spend the night
We'll work it out
Tomorrow

You know that hes a traitor
He's a one-track trouble maker
And he's rotten company
But he's got you in his sights
You're going home with him tonight
Another loveless casualty
That little ******* part of me

This is not a poem.
This is a rant.

I will put on my rage face,
And paint the town red,
And "just go crazy, man"
With the company of myself
In the comfort of my own home
Because I can tear my shirt,
Or draw a knife
Or shout shakespear off a balcony
And I openly scream at the shadows
Who answer politely with silence
I can behave badly
And if I am my only witness
I can sleep at night
Without the peace and solitude that comes from iron bars
And padded cells
I can fight with myself and indulge in the guilty pleasures
That make me feel sullied and stupid
I can argue with a hundred dream girls
And when I sleep,
They are still there in my dreams
There is no loss or losing
I can spend three hundred dollars
Monthly on alcohol
If it saves me three thousand
Monthly on sanity
I can look in the mirror and see a hundred different faces
Each more honest to its emotion than the last
I can bite my tongue to spite my face and
Laugh that it was my reflection that drove me to do so,
You never know what that ******* will say
When i am not looking
I dont spend the night on the town
Because I no longer need to surround myself with people.
I no longer need to go out to buy a hat
That suits me and makes me look interesting or meaningful
When I sit alone at the bar
I have no one to impress except myself
And myself already knows I am unimpressive.
There is no one to disappoint
And while this seems like a sad tale,
The truth is that it is the free-est I've ever felt.
In the sanctity of a space that is mine
Surrounded only by people I disagree with
My reflections
And shadows
And to be able to write this while wearing underpants.
Bukowski was right
God is dead

Sometimes I spit
To let the saliva
Freeze
On my lips

Its stupid cold
A cold of the kind
That effects the synapses
Of the mind

So cold the the very molecules
Experience a slowing of time
That I
Cannot taste

Cold so that the frozen ground
Refuses to accept
The burial shroud

A kind of cold
That dinosaurs
Dreamt of in nightmares

Planetary bodies
Far more distant from ours
Are warmer

And still the saliva

Drips

Moist on my lips

Wet

And dripping

A defiant *******
Shouting **** physics
**** the evidence

Nothing can be as real and limiting as this

Biology at war with
The law of thermodynamics

A molecular battle to exist

And still the cold persists

My home has been invaded.
Not by the usual suspects.
Instead, by the ravenous locusts of judgement.
Of the "I told you so's" and not good enough's.
A territorial plague that infests the very structure of molecules.
Never has a room so full felt so empty.

They digest.
Devouring the fabric of electron bonds
To where the air itself is heavier than water

And my lungs choke,
Desperate for smoke.
The condescending eyes,
The pollution of a space I once called mine.
A space once pristine has now
Festooned itself in patternous greed
Where opinion is paragon before law
And the laws once laid
Leave a cavitated wake
As they lay helpless by the wayside
Waiting for a passer-by
To claim the unclean deed
And draw away what sickens me

The raw and busted hide
Plays brave but cracks to the festering wound
Of unbridled, wild pride.
So strong are those that sit on perceived thrones
That even in another's home
Basic courtesies are considered contrived.

And the sickness soaks
Deep in the bones
Of the worn and weary
We should all hope to press without due regard

Late last night I had a date with Death
And she wore a corsage of my last breath
Around her wrist and
I dressed to impress
Half-heartedly desperate to look my best...
I wore a sweater-vest

With a spoon, I slit my throat
And pulled my tongue through the narrow hole
I figured I was getting dressed to die
So I wore a cuban neck tie

I picked her up at eight
On the street parallel to the eastern gate
Of a golf course adjacent to cemetery trees
... Seemed about right to me.

We strolled through the evergreens
And a thorny briar of trees
Silently chewing on epitaffy

I was unsurprised that there was a plot
I had not surmised
And when we found ourselves raising hell
I checked my watch for the time

I walked her home along the shores
Of a river called Styx
With a gondolier called Charon.
And despite his non-speaking tone,
It was nice.

We walked to a house made of brimstone and bricks
I found myself standing at Death's door
and peered inside expecting fire
But instead the fireplace was roasting goat hide

I smiled
And I leaned in for a kiss
Instead of a kiss, all she gave me is...
A pat on the shoulder
And said we could still be friends
After all, we'd be together in
The End

What dew so sweet
On the morning willow grows
And the blood runs true deep
Alas the body overthrows
Pray thee to gaze
Lay waste to the east
Upon western glades
Resounds, the bay of the beast
In mortal coil
On cracked earth resign
The body transform
Lay return to the mind
And in provincial mist
Walk thee twixt the cold
Eyes upon skin
And tattered remnants of clothes
And speaketh no name
But pray eat and sleep
And rest now anon
A fortnight defeat
For liketh the moonrise
Three days a month full
Give rise, hounds of hell
Ne're the sunrise to cull

Some men fight for charity
Some to save their youth
Some men fight for pride
Against an evil brood
Some men wish for safety
Far from foreign shores
While some men live and die
By the blade of their own sword

And while we waste the days at sea
Alone and unafraid
And long times from our lives and homes
We often tend to stay

The claim is always righteous
The innocent to save
And while men stand on walls at night
Some sleep in the shadows wake.

And Neptune mighty, king alas
Send fair winds and following seas
And guide onto familiar shores
Those that choose to ride with me.

I dont mean to deceive you, men
I aim to misbehave
For those who stand fast, I intend
To place you in harm's way.

So make your peace to the deep
And Davy Jones be kind
Let your waters run swift and true
Leave no man left behind

I feel sometimes
That I am standing on a ledge
High enough
That when the clouds clear
And the seas are calm
I can glean a moment
Of the lost Atlantis
And far above the city lights
I can touch the stars
And capture a breath
Of the human soul

If you could for a moment
Experience this elation
This exileration
Than you would come to realize
That at most you know nothing
And that simple fact
Is the greatest truth to know

On the edge of this precipice
Made jagged by fire escapes
The world below seems small
And falls away to nothing
The grand canyon cannot reach so deep.

It is here that I find a segmented
Illusion of peace
And a serenity
That escapes me so completely
When I look away
That I become empty
A vessel without a captain
A being without purpose
On this ledge
I have more strength
Than the bitter moments that
Fill the space between these interactions
Here I can know God
And I am not a believer

In these breaths of
Simple
Honest truths
Where I can finally be alone
And in that loneliness
Finally find a path
That allows me to stumble
My way back to myself

So why
When I am on the verge
Of all that I am
Of all I could be
At this point of decision...


Is someone trying to talk me down

Your interest seemed so sincere
I thought I ought pretend these words have purpose
But as you read
You will see
That these words are worthless

Where I grew up
We didn't celebrate celebrity
And weren't slaves
to the cattle-drivers of the masses

Where I grew up,
We were just young

And free

We toiled on train-tracks
Inventing troubles requiring
A daring escape.

With our stick-strapped-satchels
We foolishly mocked the local bums

Jealous of their freedom.
Ignorant of their pain.

Imitation is the hallmark of love
And yes, we loved the bums
And we were thorough through it

Where I grew up
The incandescence of the late afternoon
And early morning suns
Drew in a vibrant orange
Cast as paint on pale walls

The apartment... and eventually... the house
Shone brighter for it;
Though it seemed to struggle less in a house
That was considerably more empty

Especially around the holidays.

Where I grew up
We were taught racial and radical equality
Exacted with extreme prejudice
At every pep rally and presumably PTA meeting.

And while neighboring towns held race riots
We were racing our bikes, well...
I do miss my rollerblades

Where I grew up
Every girl was pretty as a movie star
And chased the bad boys
Like in every story I'd ever heard

And those boys won by popularity and power of presence
Girls they never deserved

Where I grew up
In winter we built massive palaces
From the winter's teardrops that huddled together
For warmth after the plow

Where I grew up...

I grew up too soon.
A little more than a little at a time
And it became clear
I had to move.