What is twenty eight from neighteen neinty
The clique I made  has moved to real estate
They conceal their tattoos with head shots
Waiting to split   the nest egg of their over easy equties
Buying every beach view with sand dollars.
It started in the mushroom headed suburbs
Under the grand piano ceilings
Where we placed our dreams
Up and through the water pipes
And dry chimney flukes
It rose with heat
Ready enouph to heckle the crows
Even with our worst winter's
We stayed and
Brought our souls through
Like Robin's hopping
In their tracks
Along the cherry wells.
Time is everywhere
Even now
Keep making changes
Even ten
Years will
Come again
More so
Ten more
Dreams
Ten more
Lauphs.

Well George we made it through that raid.
I hope the Germans arnt looking for more.
We'll have to hold the reception out in the court yard
What court yard Gene?  It's a giant foxhole.
I hope Mr Dalton had thought to grab his camera.
He bought a leica   it's worth his house
Gene.
I can't believe it!  A German camera taking our moment.
Oh God Gene they almost took our life
Mite as well smile George  
Not even in America my love!
Not until we reach New York.

Joey defrancesco  
Jazzes up  the house flyes
Just "in that order".

Spoons of coffee grounds
Slam my  procrastinations
Some dark thoughts are lost

A "mellow mood" ripens

Your cotton runs in my hair
A hand is all I want
We rub all nite with ourselves
Dreaming our ugly
Ways we can't keep under control.

My instincts kiss your face
And I moan with my forearm
Hoping to make you give in!

Everything you touch is handed back.
Where both waiting to wake  waiting to kiss.
Even if  its it cold and bad like our grossest breaths.

We make get up and work and try to find excuses to be lazy to work on what we made.  

I love you...

After half a season
The hard dry weeds sway  with frost
A black crow  flies.

The smooth and oiled wrap
Of hushed water
Calming through every wave
A starfish brines
To bath in what ever sticks
Cold to hold
The chance never got away
To breath some air.
And grab a decent thing when it came.

I try the starlite
But burn my ghost to death
Cursing the moonstruck
Nite.

A mirror of feirce fire
Whistles at the cold
The blazing sizzle of rain
Can barley spit
With out a breath I know
my heart
Is running wild!