they drink flat beer
while standing in the rain
waiting for 30 to1 shots
to come in

they meet at airport terminals
waiting for different flights
promising to meet again
next summer

they leave the mad house sane
and carry bibles in the ghetto
and run for president
to change things
for the better
for a change

they are poor black children
in a toy store
on a white
very white
Christmas eve

they

the wind blows them away

She died before her death
But no one noticed

another year passes by you

the sadness in your
eyes

like old newspapers
blowing down
a deserted street

the hunger in your voice
drifting between
a laugh and a scream

and your troubled heart
forever
chasing light
down a dead end street

we searched for meaning
in the shadows of dreams

What happen to the nights
when we only wondered
what tomorrow could bring?

3 a.m.

the lonely crowd,
a quiet madhouse

i'm dressed in those rags
of too many yesterdays

but a wink from the waitress
and then a smile
and she s talking to the rain

and she bounces
across the gloom

and i fold like a flower
in a book

a game of chance
a desperate man

hold me close,
hold me tighter

take away my fear

gently hold my heart

I m going down
and i'm talking to the rain

the waitress is coming

and she sits beside me

blue sky mirrored
in her eyes
and she gives that
smile


we hold hands

2 wounded creatures
seeking shelter

from the eternal rain
of the all night-diner  
in winter

the clock smiles
and it is a sad smile

and coming through an open window
tiny red eyes on dainty feet
scurries around
the 4 corners of my prison  

where the dice roll
but never fall

 so,

hold on,

st christopher
former saint
taken off the calendar

O lost angel
guardian angel

say a prayer for me,

and like the shadows
thrown by the corner boys
as sunset approaches

i'll follow you down

into the tall
grass
where the lions wait
for wounded
dreamers

can you spare
a little faith???

O, st christopher

I ve been locked up
way too long
in this crazy world

please.

tell me.

how far is heaven?