When you are sitting at the bar
4 hours past midnight
It's not a pretty sight
Where nothing little nobody's
predicted in their field of pleasure
and the acres of green grass
chose at their own leisure
Goats and sheep for upkeep
like raiding a tomb for treasure
Sitting at the end of the bar
watching the byplay like ESPN
voicing Hits and Misses
and deep end missed plays
it's easier to stay disconnected
when you're just calling the game
except, at Last Call,
when all the goats and sheep
found someone to meet
to take home to make hay
and your just sitting,
sipping your tonic and gin
all you hear is
Hey! Last Call!
you can't stay, for another day
you go home alone
goats and sheep aren't your thing
but you think it's amazing
that you heard the bells
Last Call
you missed the play

Death came to me at just 15
my brother never made it home
He died as a simple passenger
a car accident victim, not alone
It came to me again at 27
my cousin who became my brother,
lit himself on fire, literally
because he had no other
but he was married, with 2 kids
she had left him earlier
you could still smell the burnt rubber
from her skids...
It came to me 6 years ago
when my Dad succumbed to Cancer
the big C, to see him weakening
was a blow, but he started to know
God at this time.
It made me angry!
First to recognise his Athiesim
Second to see him succumb
Third to finally see him bribe
his way through remaining time
What do you know?
perhaps God recognised his crime...
Death comes to me
every time I read the news
It hits just as hard
as if I knew
each and every soul lost
even though they are just names
written on paper
I think I might know death
just like you do
I mourn, but prefer
It waits for me
*Later

There is no better freedom then  in this highway and the thrill of a willing soul beside you before your nights end.
Maybe we thirst for the attraction of something strange maybe its just the thirst to feel something at all.

A razors sting and a steady breeze the highways marker leaves my epitaph no visitors need darken this place for I have long since outgrew  my coffin so long ago.

Taste it with me my dear for nothing goes better with agony than a good dash of simple lust.

Strip clubs and the most elegant neon light I hold my glass to view it's reflection sometimes we all lose track me I find more solace in a dead end street than laying beside another as empty as me.

We viewed the wreck a wicked pleasure we knew it was destined we simply didn't care .

Maybe I'm the one who finds comfort of the depths a train that cuts the nights silence so haunting yet peaceful all the same.

Burnt out promises and one night stands faces change yet the reflection although aged still shadows my past my friend how have you been,
And are you still tortured as I?

When there gone is almost as empty as when there here .
Enjoy your company and speak without the ******* that so many others choose to spawn in such well intended lies .

I pass my hours alone a bottle and my thoughts a highway always before me .

Paradise is was in the moments like old photos they haunt my thoughts as they cling to faded walls of sentimental fools none such as misplaced as I.

Dim lit confessions so tragic the flaws .
Nothing shines as beautiful as a  match within a vacant room.

We are reflections of the embers and nothing more .
So ****** up and so perfectly flawed by design.

And then there was a silence that spoke deeper than any words ever could.

True story, word for word*

17 year old Son
calls his Mum

and says

Can you stop
at the shops,
and buy me,
a pair of thongs
and a box
of condoms