you might need a wrinkle
walking down
Main Street
parallel parking
dry cleaners
the stove  pipe
cigar shop  
maybe a glass to
smoke your ice into a
head
he sells that now
rolling papers
a wicked meerschaum head pipe
looks like
Santa
imagine a rock there
rush
yeah
and the ***** cinema
with low life pimps
saying hey my sister
is the good dude
you saw too much in Vietnam
in Phnom Penh
sixty seven
never thought you'd see
third world back here
had a needle
in your vein
every second
broke that
habit
arrived back to crack and ice
seems like drugs evolve faster than we do
and pain
is always there
oh
how the world gets
smaller
tell me
why the hell
we were there

Why do you chose to hurt me?
Why do you say I mean so much to you?
Why do you say you need me?
Why do you lie to me?
Why me?
Why?

Perhaps you are right,
You are here for
little more than sorrow,
twisted ambiguity,
languishing in torrential rain

But what if you are wrong
And you are here to
transcend the sorrow,
clear the ambiguity
and dance in the sun

Were you to be as sure of the
latter as you are of the former,
how differently would you
live this day?

Seems like a dream
Has over taken us now
Tossed in this turmoil
I'm not quite sure how
We've all become numbers
In this nameless place
Have pity on the whole human race

We've spent years of our future
Trying to run from the past
Relying on memories
That never did last
With so many questions
Who can we ask
Where are the morals that we used to have

Whatever happened to the morals in life
We opened the window
They flew into the night
Can anyone tell me how we'll ever get by
Without the morals that once held us so tight

The fewer the heartbeats
The shorter the time
The deeper the cavern
The harder the climb
The more that we look for
The less that we find
Of the morals that we left behind

Whatever happened to the morals in life
We opened the window
They flew into the night
Can anyone tell me how we'll ever survive
Without the morals that we once had in life

I sit amongst
people I know
people who have
the same blood
and the same
historic milestones

and yet we are so different

i feel the black sheep coat
knitting itself about me once more
high turtle neck choking me
and wool coarse, causing my soul
to itch and raise hives...

as i sit  with family
but excluded by feelings
both mine and their
I must be true
and cry mea culpa... too

when  I was younger
I ran to the end of my tether
and was held to the family tree
by mere threads  
of silken spider web loyalty

then as I aged  
I reeled myself
back to the shore
of shared mythology

only to find my time
of freedom at the
end of the line
gave me a permanent
feeling of never having
been there...

and now as they visit
the mother of us all
we sit in polite conversation
about the progeny of us
and I think that
our particular dysfunction
is more of an exclusion
of the intricate nature
of bonding and care...

we are tied loosely
this bundle of family sticks
and I fear once
the bind that ties
the love of our mother
most dear
is torn from us
even now
she is threadbare
and once that is broken

our nature of exclusion
will scatter us to the wind
.....a family tree laid bare