Space is hardly the final frontier.
But, for now,
don’t you think we seem ambitious?
Shooting arrows at the clouds
could come back
to shoot you in the head.
Can’t you see that colonies on mars
would become a new home for problems.  
Seems desperate.
What do I know though,
I'm Twenty-Five and I haven't even graduated college.
But fears of failure make us see future
where our planets long since dead.
From that arrow to the head.
Salvation relies on a new years revolution
or something humbling like that.
But wait,
I shouldn’t write that here.
Big Bro is always watching.
I might find a man in black,
tap-tapping at my chamber door.
Not Lenore.
Thats when you'll hear me saying,
"Does anyone have a cigarette?"

The rooster does crow at the break of dawn
but five to seven a.m.
is the hours of the dog
"Time to wake up"
Cheerful beyond belief
face in mine
dripping licking tongue
tail wacking the dresser
in perfect time.
Hot breath
not yours not mine
but you know whose.
Through the fog of the mind
knowing it won't stop
until food is served.
I am never that cheerful at sunrise.

Seven to five
the birds and rats
are in their time.
Squirrels chipmunks
deer
everybody working their *** off to survive.
I gotta go to work
Calling in sick every day
But one foot in front of the other
And I am on my way.
The crows line up
on the garbage man's run
The ducks laugh at every move you make
but you take it in stride.

The cows lay down to
take a nap.
But not I.

At about five
The bear comes sauntering down the street
tossing garbage cans
this way and that.
The best part of work is the drive home.
Neighbors come out of their houses
to watch him.
Power and hunger
a dangerous combination
But in a rare moment of neighborly cheer
even a cocktail was had.
He was big he was strong
We gave him a wide berth
but owwed and awed him
along his way like watching fire works.

Five to eight
The hours of the skunk
and you get very cranky
through the PTSD
of a mean and angry father
and tires on the driveway.

As darkness totally sets in
the racoons come out
making mischief on the roof
batty as the bats that flee into my room.
Those racoons
the more you try to
chase them away
the more they come over
to see what your doing.

You look at me and wonder who I am
Sometimes you snuggle up
While the night birds sing.

Three to five
D.H. Lawrence
called the hours of the wolf
when madness and suicide
remorse and dread reign
Blood pressure
at its lowest
Heart rate at its slowest
Breath down
Body temperature as cold as the ground.
Remember to not
take very seriously
what ever you think
until with relief
the sun begins to rise
and doggy smooches
awaken your time. ..