I'm just composing all day
I'm just transposing all day
I'm just eroding all day
I'm just imploding all day
I wonder what's for lunch?

I am undefinable by any conventional method.
This human mystery so vastly intrepid.

You can never know me, and nor I you.
In even understanding myself I've no clue.

Our identity is not visible to the naked eye.
I am not who you think I am and that's no lie.

What must I do what must I say,
To be with you for one more day?

What must I say what must I do,
Just so I can stay with you?

You say you're leaving come May,
I'll do anything to make you stay

Its not your fault, I say to her and my surprise,
Rationalization is just an internalized lie.

Despite what happened, it's what I must do,
To not end up lonely and dejected too.

We pick up the pieces and move along,
To this monotonous yet comfortable song.

The Ocean body
Ebbs like a verse in a mind
poceantry in Flux

I am the Lumberjack, strong and sway,
Out and about to work a manly day.

"Will you swing your mighty ax?" less asked, more sung,
And I said "Boy, my axe already been swung".

"Oh sweet Jesus, where are we hiding the body?!"
"I'll make it into a cabin, that's a Lumberjack's hobby"

It takes skill and ingenuity to rank with Lumberjacks,
"Well good for you, that's thinking with your ax."