I find myself
Sometimes
(But only then)
Thinking about it
(what could it be?)
Too. . .

What will happen now?

I have smiles some days
and on bad days I smile
the other way around and
Sundays are bad days
Because I can't remember
What happened for the last
Seven days; well you see
what happened was,
I left home for the west coast
and found myself a different home
and surrounded myself with a little bit
of friends in that little bit of shack.
Beer, fish, grass and waves, ****, girls, lights
and strange madness erupted
into the canal streets of that little fishing town;
It was beautiful.
Like a dream out of a movie.
Made straight out of Hollywood in the 1950's.

For a split-second I thought about going back home
I think I did for a day or two in my mind. . .
and then suddenly I woke up!
This time on the easy-east coast
In a fluster of sandy beach hippies - my family
and friends scattered out on top of the yard
Days and days and days and days of
Drugs and rice and sand, non-stop funk, horseshoes, beer, waves,
more grass and more beer, sunsets and sunrises,
and strange women with multicolored eyes
and all of their weird ways.

It all seemed like a wisp of smoke now . . .
But I'd like to say that I built a ship that will sail eternally
Through these stormy seas of our fragile lives.
We as this corroded house will forever withstand the winds
Of nature and time
In itself - in ourselves.

**We are one.