Smoke in the eye,
is worth two burnt fingers.
One fleeting glance,
is worth two good looks.
Admitting that you aren't any good,
isn't worth anything at all.

Six months isn't long enough.
It’s also too long.
I can’t cope with this.
I’ll sing and dance you away.
I’ll dance the night away.
Dance until I die.
I’ll see you there.
I hope.

I’m here and nowhere else.
Maybe my problem is that I can only see the end.
My flaw is that I look back most and look forward least.
I can’t see the present.
I’m here and nowhere else.
I’m free or so I believe.
I’m free
for the evening.
I’m here and waiting
for the present to fall through into the past.
Nowhere else.
Now here and nowhere.
I’m free.

Crickets
in my ear.
They cry out for something, somewhere.
Where?
It’s just a sound.
Something, somewhere.
Something.
Existing
just to be forgotten.

We lived our entire lives caring for all things unimportant and at the bitter end we laughed as death tore us from the Earth.

A life fleeting.
Shouting
for another but,
our breaths hold short.
Take what you can.
I’m here, and
I’m gone.