Punching in
early in the night
or any old time
for a job
that pays
no money
I gain insight
into the profession
of the unsuccessful artist
who has to do his work
with nothing to gain
except the accomplishment
since that's the way
it is.

My childhood bicycle
was like a Cadillac
with fins and gizmos
but my brother suggested
we strip it down.
My brother tried
to fix a red corvette
in our family's garage.
The computer has replaced
my childhood bicycle
with its journeys
to cyberspace.
The 5 year old car
of my mother's
which I drive
is orange and waits
in our family's garage.

The first thought
was by the right guy
and the second thought
was by the right guy
and even though
they sound different
they are both
as empty
as outer space.

I used to be
the kind of guy
who drank
a twelve pack
of Bud Light
and watched
football.
Now I am
the kind of guy
who does a dance
to the morning
and sings
Doe A Deer
four times
shortly after
I wake up.
It's hard to get used to it.

For years
I have been
playing with my brain
trying to find
my old mind
and now it has dawned on me
that my ordinary,
everyday mind
is none other than this
ordinary, everyday mind
that I have right here.
The joke's on me.

My father was mowing the lawn.
He called me over and asked,
"Where's your brother?",
I replied, "I don know",
He said back, sharply,
"Use your mind!",
so I thought in my head
about it, and he went,
"Ack, go find him!".
As I was walking away,
I thought, "Use your mind?
I wonder what that means?"

Sometimes,
the best teachers
in our lives
are the dumbest.
I include
the mean guys
and the mean girls.
And let's not forget
the mentally ill.