I never got to where I am
I was
never seemingly quite
that man
who meant to be
the man
you
supposed me to be

Don't worry
it's only with my blood
that I'm crying.

Sunset and my sight is reddened.

There's a canyon in the badlands and
It's Montana that takes hold of my hands
to lead me in deeper.

Only in America
thank the Lord
for small mercies.

It's just the same
but different
and it's a game
we all play.

Individual
invisible
occasionally irascible
but mostly
amenable.

Count to five
hold your breath
another ten
and ten more
then another
smother yourself in the feeling
until your mind is reeling
and exhale.

it's a game, and we're the same
all testing boundaries.

Sunday night  and it might be Monday
tomorrow might be that other day
that we read about.

Serendipity doo dah
is what I heard
but serendipity
was not the word

they could have made the song
on a thirty three and a third
instead of a 78rpm.

She's shelling peas
off the Outer Hebrides
and he's being a lazy sod
won't even move a
pea pod,

but thinking takes up all his time
and thinking work might be a crime
he remains an innocent.