Oceanside california

four in

the morning.

eating
**** dog
corn, and

drinking a

poor man's

whiskey.



walking
talking
to whats left

of myself.

My giddy up
footsteps
follow carry
me home.

old,

Beginning

my final sleep
inside
my bones,



it comes

over me,

like warm

milk soaking

through
my favorite

pecan
cookie.



it reminds
me that

one of
these
days,
I will
keep

my final

promise
to you.

and let
all of
the rest
fade to black.


like

juvenile

feathers long

ago fallen
at my
feet.,



in the

end of

questions and

doubts,



there will
only
be you.