We're dancing on the embers of a fire no one remembers
and this life is being ****** out of us,
up the chimneys, we spiral
like candy floss,

there is
sweetness in the air
but that's just death
it gets in everywhere.

Then to the room where the shades are drawn
a bit like the day before we were born
why fear?
we're here
we always have been.

She came upon me in a rush,
I tried to scream but She said,
shush
it's for your own good.

Better get my hair cut
better than my throat cut
and I've said that before
it's on repeat
it's on repeat
and I've said that before.

five twenty-one
the time
not the year
though I fear
it may well be

the dawn of the dark age
another page we turned
more bridges that we burned
can anyone be cross?

Teddy said to me
what do you want to be
when you grow up?
I said to Ted
well,
not a friggin'
glass-eyed bear  
that's for sure.

We'll
call them gentlemen
them in pinstripes
and
patent leather
and
like penguins
they flock together,
safety
in the numbers that they cook up

but every time
they *** us up
and up we look
from
the floor
nobody can ignore
that.

Writing Lost in Spider Trails
nails one more poet to the door,
but raise those webs of wonder high
and stop the ****** war.

it's when you're in the lifeboat and the ship's already sunk and the waves are eight feet high and you feel as if you're drunk
then your brain goes on hiatus like that hernia you had
and the captain says
as a matter of fact, things are looking bad.

but things have always looked the worst just before the morning sun
the man who gave me that little gem is the one known as Ben Gunn and he rose to prominence from the pen of Stevenson.

just ramblin' here and it must be time for breakfast.