sitting in the ****** sunlight
pondering **** Jagger
and who’ll inherit his lips when he dies.
smoke chains from my mouth and
Motown comes to mind.
What I Got is a pregnant cat
with cautious green eyes.
what i think i’ll do is wait,
but when will i stop?

i’ve read my calendars
birthed my charts
and i still can’t decide.

wind blows up my shirt
school buses scream by.
Hey, Children, Hi.

my nicoteen teeth burp
and i’m pushing out a cigarette
heading back inside.

Sometimes, when something is wrong
We stop and begin to hum a song
Of less importance than our problems.
The humming and the drumming of it all
Is what truly is our downfall.
We get lost in the notes and the pitch.
The goosebumps, the feeling.
We begin to fall in love with the dream
The dream that swallows us with the beat.
When's something's wrong,
We stop and begin to hum a song.
To take away the feeling
That's keeping us singing.
Singing, singing.
Helping us go crazy.
When something is wrong,
We stop and begin to hum a song.
We begin to hum a song.

He twists the words he says
And makes them into something he can believe in
The greatest undefinable thing that he's never been
He's swimming in his fantasies

An untamed greatness that he forsook
Spilled it out into the swamp
He found himself inside a book
The cure to all his wants

On a sun-drenched day
He lost himself
Deep inside the flood

There are some things
Inside his brain
That run more deep than blood

A song to sink the prying eye
He woke up and kissed the sky

Along the road less traveled by
He laid down and thought he'd died

In a river full of discontents
A simple syllable so sunk
Never mind his ramblings of nonsense
He's nothing but a drunk

The smell of *** lingers
on my damp skin
as I sit silently on the porch,
watching as the ashes of the
burning cigarette in my hand
disappear into the wind.

I take another drag,
the smoke veiling
my face as I exhale.

I discard the spent Marlboro
and continue to stare into
the indecipherable blackness.

It is during times like this
I become inherently aware
of how alone I really am.

There is always a somethingness
and never a nothingness
Never believe in the nothingness because nothingness is what kills the dreams and what desecrates and obliterates the child.
There is always a somethingness in what you perceive as nothingness.
Never forget that.