It's **** obscene, these best-laid plans
of mice, of boys, of knuckleballers--
world-weary one-trick cowards
plotting courses into safety,
taking wrong turns on the way
Now I...? I was never good with signs
green and white--bad with directions.
I'm the walking ghost of a better me
And the guy I used to be and me,
we don't speak.
Estranged.
Roll through each day
horizon's far from home.
Night blacks out gunmetal grey,
grey-brown slush fills city streets
and asphalt colored X's fill
our blue and coffee eyes
Fade out Fall back.
blizzards come
Ride out the margins
static clouds fill white-out skies
Skies we grasp for
skies we shy from.
lofty climb, now plummet earthward
So
these muddy footprints
trace out the path I took.
"What a twist!"
Yeah.
****
Aug 6, 2013
Aug 6, 2013 at 6:30 PM UTC
It's **** obscene, these best-laid plans
of mice, of boys, of knuckleballers--
world-weary one-trick cowards
plotting courses into safety,
taking wrong turns on the way
Now I...? I was never good with signs
green and white--bad with directions.
I'm the walking ghost of a better me
And the guy I used to be and me,
we don't speak.
Estranged.
Roll through each day
horizon's far from home.
Night blacks out gunmetal grey,
grey-brown slush fills city streets
and asphalt colored X's fill
our blue and coffee eyes
Fade out Fall back.
blizzards come
Ride out the margins
static clouds fill white-out skies
Skies we grasp for
skies we shy from.
lofty climb, now plummet earthward
So
these muddy footprints
trace out the path I took.
"What a twist!"
Yeah.
****
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