~~~





t . a . r                        
i'm like pancho right now . my mind
is like a breath of kerosene . now i'm
growing old . i'm  living  on a  rope it
seems . but that's the way of dreams .
all  the purveyors  say  you can  only
go so far before they lay you low . so
the story  goes  on  about  how  i  fell .
but  it's  not  true . so  the story  ends
before it's told . they could have had
me any day . but they  let  go  of  me out of kindness i suppose . living on
the road without end . i began to cry
and sank into my dreams . but that's
the way it goes .

c . e . j
life is a tightrope walk they say . but
they say a lot of things . don quixote
had  his windmills . i have  my  way out . my wings . i travel  throughout
their  towns  and cities . their  blood
and mud  clings  to me in layers that
dry to become  dust . none  of that is
Important  on  the  endless  highway
i  drank  myself  lucid  dreaming   of how  your  face  looked  in the moon
tears  are  collecting  in my  bottle so
it won't  run dry too soon . but that's
the way it goes .


thomas a robinson
catherine e jarvis
(c) october 12, 2014