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 Mar 2019
South by Southwest
He measures his life
not in wealth
but in how many
times he can read
the Bible through

Second hand vowels
that choke
Casual nouns tossed out
used as a joke

I was looking out
across the bay
The sun stumbled
into the clouds
and called it a day
I stumbled over sin
The blue moon sighed

Second hand news
that arrives too late
Seminal smiles
that are so fake

The days slipped between
another year
Wondering what they would do
when she is gone
And then she was gone

Second hand dreams
blowing smoke through the rings
Nothing but prayers
now means a thing

Second hand desperation
 Mar 2019
CK Baker
Pilsner cap switch blade
tie dye and piccolo
greasers and freaks
with platform feet
muscling in
on the bow legged hoofer
tapping
Bursey Hill Tram

Diamond tuft console
mullets n' ****
angels and saints
(unrestrained)
appropriately trimmed
as 3 mile wreaks havoc
on the nickers and
fighters of penn

Bangers and home boys
hookahs and sheiks
hostile geeks
breaking knuckles and jaws
on the caners and skinners
who are locked
and grinding the root

Desert boot foothills
boardwalk jeans
rainbows and sea fairs
and psychedelic dreams
(the platinum queens
jamming it hard
on the jade room floor)

8 tracks
and fender packs
the hottest summer days
psychedelic haze
center hall, graffiti scrawl
(sinister yet refined!)
covering the subtle
yet striking third ****

Brunswick cues
and red man chew
350 blocks
(on a solid Chevy - stock)
monkeys and beatles
and laugh in scenes
pastel dreams
from the long and coveted
velvet scroll
 Feb 2019
Jack Jenkins
I see all these blank pages of my future and I tear them to shreds//
I only want to live in the pages of my past//
I only wanted it to last//
For her to last//
I don't wish it was different just that I had done things differently//
Maybe it'd end the same, but not knowing hurts//
Not trying hurts//
Somewhere I stopped trying to grow and only tried to control//
I was just a boy in a man's frame//
Yet I knew how to love her//
I still love her//
But she's gone like the ashes of a wildfire//
Alone I still sing of her//
Empty, echoing, loneliness//
It is my new peace//
//On her//
Hurt is a wonderful teacher in the school of hindsight. God I miss her.
 Feb 2019
David Adamson
I met a woman
brutal in her mercy.

Her embrace was a clinch
to prevent hard blows.
She pulled me close to push me away.
Seeing my nakedness
she leant me a dream
of chainmail and shield.
Taking love from me she gave a reprieve
to a mind resigned to the slow death of feeling.

Ignoring my words she heard
my faint silent heartbeat and
understood that it was music
too quiet for the world to hear
and turned it up louder
than I could stand.
I wept in my deafness
as she danced.
Black & White
Yin & Yang
Captivating drawing presence in
A trance into the contrast and parallel
The beauty in the dark and light dwell
Calling into balance
Awareness
Rise and Fall
Complementary enthral
Opposites to bring whole
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