if a good man
goes on a journey
will he arrive there

I keep coming home
To visit you
But you are never there
Oh old man
Where did you go?
I see your body in the chair
Your cup is still half full
But you're eyes see someone new
When I'm sitting
Where I used to
I introduce myself each time
But you ask again before I go
I keep coming by
Just to see you
But old man
You're never home

The waves are silent. The waves
don't move. Nobody wants to be here
and nobody wants to leave.

There's a man trapped
under his house with an alligator.
His wife does the thin space walk:
an olive, a cherry, and an onion.

She'd sensed his gaze and took off
her dressing gown. She asked if he thought
her bottom was too big, her mind too small.
He said a faded, faulted no.

He's stupid, but he'll catch on
sooner or later. He once saw a ray in her,
but she fell out of orbit. Waxing and waning.

She's got to be careful, after
the sleeping pills and gas. She knows
it's Wednesday because she
took her last pill on Tuesday.

Allowing the world she so painstakingly
built up to ignite and burn apart
in front of both their eyes.

It's hard to speak openly as a man
who only knew how to be a boy.

My credentials are lackluster,
I only have my mothers words

on how I never learned patience.
My heart fears big men in small places,

I guess that's why I never grew up...
I was afraid to stand tall and speak up.

Promise kept, for the sake of promise kept.
Robes worn, for the sake of robes worn.
Wedding bands, and oming hands.
The value in virtue, I will willfully adorn.
Its tightening locks of golden strands
the lightning rocks me, but it understands.
I must work through what I've made,
I trust the solace in this, a stoic slave.
I picked my lot and hold it fast,
I'll stick my spot, this mold is cast

Doubt will cause a shadow
and I've drunken all I had, so
a deep drink in divine, then have your spew.

Trust in the voice
that made this choice,
and for this lifetime, actually see it through.

same old black t shirt,
first day of school ID.

buzzed hair starting to grow in,
glimmering from lamination.

slinking slouching sliding,
stumbling betwixt the desks.

the man, the myth, the legend,
just nobody knows he exists