Around the coals we gather to warm are tired souls
Brothers singing of all life's woes
And dear old sawyer and his lady go on their way
Towards the west and memory lane.
I bid adieu to these travelers and the heated night
One day we will find peace in our drunken blight
To the poet and their thoughtful muse
To the guitarist and their twanging tune
To the smoker with a hazy mind
And the couple rekindled in Octobers fire.

its raining
I kicked a hole in the wall
imprinteing my madness
like a urge.
lost my job today
but
at least I have a hero.
who took all my tears
frustration and fears
and threw them out
like salty fries.
at my bosses car, and the parking lot.
he covered me with his tin foil hat
as courage turned from pain.

god I love Mondays

they burned acts 21 just to feel closer to enlightenment,
they danced on rooftops so they could feel the light of stars,
if only though a telescope.

at the moment of lost translation there is no hope for
western civilization.

and here i gather my sandwich in deep thought.

i'm leaving
you have to travel, get out there, explore you said
so that's what i'll do
i'm on my way
to the underworld
i'll get there through the sea
the way you travel on a train
with a few differences, i suppose
i have rocks in my pockets
bricks chained to my ankles
no air in my lungs
but happiness in my heart
maybe because i have no thoughts in my mind