I am one month from forever,
Caps and gowns and then forever,
One night from a breakdown,
On my knees and now I’m face down.

I am crawling towards tomorrow,
Never now, always tomorrow,
Reaching out toward the distance,
Come so far, I’ll go the distance.

We sit alone for a while in a field of colorless buildings, breathing in the smell of manufactured air. Breezes open our lungs so wide that we burst into flames of fatigue.

We stare into each others eyes, not wondering of what the day is to bring, only slipping into each others minds. As the dewy forest smell of green extincts, we lose grip of the concrete ground built atop the soil mound. The clutter of words fade off. Fingers glide across the softness of your cheek. Forget what it means to speak.

Lay down here beside me, friend, on this desert land surrounded by everything but trees. The blades of glass *****, the deep darkness sleeps, as your eyes shutter in exhaust and vision slowly drifts away. The sounds of ambulances, breaks, moving feet.

We drown into the motionless air. Tomorrows home will never be here.

Satin-textured shamrock flower,
whose eyes chrome the seas
of the faded cushioned theatre seats,
with their sparkling, piercing power--
You,
saunter sprightly up and down,
lyrical laughter over-bounds,
in quick-timing
to the taste
of your Irish school-girl ways.

We take time enough to see,
those livid, lush-red cheeks,
(ripe, rose-blushed every time
as you savour sweet the wine)
that sanctifies
your softly senses,
sans pretenses,
whereon your wings of
wonder float and fly.

Scented, tactile spirit-showers,
all the joy we need,
as the stage-light's haunting beam,
Sheers the magic of this hour--
You,
lightly lift us off the ground,
set us oh, so softly down
upon those rhyming wisps of air
that caress your auburn hair.

Now, I, a poor poet,
upon this paper
play
pleasing poetics of your praise,
whilst the ink upon these lines,
dries far faster than the tears
falling
from my wistful, yearning eyes
in exaltation of
your Wings of Wonder Ways.

They shuffle their feet
They trip and they moan
They have soulless eyes
They bite and they groan.

Their all wearing suits
Their hair's falling out
Their teeth are decayed
Their guts strewn about.

Well thats what I saw
When I went to the bank
But I guess that I have
Mondays to thank.

i want you if
even for the
shortest moment
of time
even if knowing
our hellos
will also be
goodbye.

i want
you

to hold me.

Join me, come share a drink
Of times gone in a blink
Here we sit, lost in thought
Never have we found what we sought

Pour us another, drown this sorrow
All could be better, come tomorrow
They call me the Gonzo poet
Ready, now and always, to show it
I will be here, forever with my friends
Caring for them, because caring never ends
Killing time before time deserts me

Relishing those close, who set me free
Of all the days that have gone past
Broken bottles are always cast
Be your health always bless you
In all the things that you do
Never fear, the Gonzo poet is here
So come and join me now, in another beer