The great hiway of dawn
Stretching to slumber
pouring out from her greedy
palms a shore, to wander

Hesitation & doubt
Swiftly ensconced

O Viking, your women
cannot save you
out on the great ship

Time has claimed you
Coming for you
~~~

And I came to you
for peace
And I came to you
for gold
And I came to you
for lies
And you gve me fever
& wisdom
& cries
of sorrow
& we’ll be here
the next day
the next day
&
Tomorrow
~~~

There’s a belief by the
Children of Man which states
all will be well

Search on man, calm savior
Veteran of wars incalculable
greed. Search on man, calm savior
God-speed & forgive you
morning-star, fragrant
meadow person girl

Tsk tsk tossed.
go out
Your suggestions.

Whisk whisk washed.
Flow south
Your directions.

Hiss hiss sorry.
No time for
sage reflections.

Songs you sang will not be sung
Nor any tales of length believed
The brain embodied in such young
Will think it he who first perceived

Who first made sparks?
From rocks to barks?
Blinding night and fooling fear?

Our first teacher
Godfather to fire
In this new day
remains unclear.


Realizations often
Skip awry
Salute nor ovation
For you my friend
Draw nigh.

When truth escapes your lips
It is not their time to hear.
For some ears are full of magic
And your end is
Rolling near.

Tsk tsk tossed
go out
Your suggestions.

Whisk whisk washed
flow south
Your directions.

Hiss hiss sorry
no time for
sage reflections.

Songs you sang will not be sung
Nor any tales of strength believed.

The brain embodied in such young
Must think it he first to perceive.

Ask every man
Who first made sparks?
From rocks to barks?
Blinding night and fooling fear?

Wholly gone ghost
Our first bright creature
He harnessed fire
Then disappeared.


Realizations when thought anew
Seem to skip from us awry.

So no Salutes
nor an ovation
For those who fostered
Us will be spied.

Gods truth your lips bespoke to youth
Yet still it's not their time to hear.
For these ears are full of magic
And your end rolls
Crushing near.

Kowtow
No
Longer
She
Wouldn't
Desire
Me
Any
Less
Nor
I
Her
Anymor­e.

On the occasion of writing a poem
With speech to text text knowledge he
Looks at the diving board with disdain.

The old rules are unwritten the new ones I'm fashionable. Where in this present tense does anything really exist?

So think Yahweh for technology.
Thanks Zeus for our manners.

And pretend love is a blanket but does not smother.
In the end only we can define what new territorial contests will be created by speech to text technology and the vipers nest contained there with them.

Broncos bucked up
Rattled rangeless restless
For 24 days now

Cowboys gone awry
Drunk in their sheets.

Shooting out windows
Instead of black hats.
Divining honor in
Hoop skirts.

Belching sarsaparilla
Soaked six shooters.
Go West young man?

No.
Sorry.

Invest young man.
Get blessed young man.
Get dressed young man.

Distressed ghost towns
Remain inflections

Calico ribboned echoes
of
Freedom's hyena laugh &
Liberty's lonesome howl.