My words are like nations of the world’s
swirling around and coming about
in the same way or another.


Which way the wind blows
doesn’t always match up
with a compasses nose.


Sometimes you have to turn against a howl
in order to reach the next place you must receive,
like swimming upstream
in order to fulfill a cyclical life’s purpose…


When was it ever worth this?


When was it ever worth less?


I can feel it in my bones
as they urge me to find a home,
but I’m an animal of unknown.


The only type that can carry the knowledge of what they are.


The lies of a misunderstanding
where I can’t see past a breed,
or a bent genome that’s changed and left alone…


Without a loan.


The world has not yet seen oblivion...


I think I missed Venus when she was kissed
by a depleting atmosphere that thinned out
into outer space…


Sound dissipated as it reached the last substance left to vibrate.


A laugh in a lifetime (of) comedy,
an attraction left in an eye that meets the same,
a meaningless night where it can remain.


I am not always the one to blame,
but I take it anyway.


For if I don’t then there’s no resolute
and I can’t feel peace in sleep,
or a tragedy in a common community.


Without the others coming on to me
I’d never know to make believe anything...


And see a sadness shared
on faces and fists holding hands.


Changing the channels of life’s plans through currents and tides
who leave their marks on rockless sands…


Only in viewing can I comprehend,
only within a glass can I confide,
and only when it’s passed I no longer have to hide my pride.


After all,


I am being pushed through the hours ride.