We cannot seem to understand
that one perceives personally with limited scope,
a minuscule allotment, a slippery vision of time.
We believe to hold witness to a great single minded river,
this metaphor is bought wholly
and sold solely to sweeten our short life-
As one word often leads to the next,
a parent sires child
thinking this is the most powerful measurement of truth
we use to falsely foolproof our assurances
and assuage any feeling of being a victim,
eaten by time.
It is a shared dream of the dead man's final words-
they carry weight, meaning and purpose.
Needing to be painfully comprehended and carried self evident.
A literary reflection of our need for death to matter,
to have matter and be of substance is a view of ourselves linearly,
as a line drawn between birth to death
then- maybe
a cathartic eternity.

You have me smiling at the blowing wind
My moods are completely capricious; they depend on you
I'm starting to fall...
And keeping my feet planted is becoming more and more impossible
I'm in love with the idea of you.
I want every part of it
But I keep forgetting to account for reality
Your presence has kept me hazy, and spinning
Disoriented, confused,
But blissfully
       Ignorantly
              Stupidly
                     Happy
I don't think I'm ready to face the truth yet
I think I'll stay up in these dreams for awhile
I consciously choose to avoid sensibility
I want nothing of logic, or rational
I am content with my simple idea of what you are.

I promised that I'd go to bed
before the midnight hour.
Yet doggy has to take a walk,
and kitty's milk is sour,
and laundry in the wash-n-dry
needs sort and hang and fold...
(my Mom was right, I need a wife,
before I get too old!)

I'd like to have a comfort wife,
Here in my waning days...
A happy, buxom, needy gal
who puts up with my ways
Who'd let me write and paint and strum.
then bed me down with flowers...
(Then walk the dog and fill the
Kitty's bowl
when his milk sours.)

It's too soon to live in memories
I try to convince myself
Years don't change everything
I try to convince myself
This is no prison I'm living in
I have the keys, the locks are not broken
I try to convince myself I have a reason
For not using them

Grab a pen and some paper
Some of these are important
I just know they are
These are the things that made me what I am
Aren't they?
The sum total of all my experiences, right?
I need to chronicle and catalog
Separate the wheat from the chaff
This will set me straight
Or maybe not...could be a waste of time

Time takes them away, one by one
Teases, bringing some back
Then snatching them away again
Despite my best efforts
To hoard them
Years don't change everything
The cruel workings of time
Are eternal

Of this I am convinced

I've sacrificed freedom
To live in a cage
To settle for memories
For fear that hurt would break in
And make itself comfortable
Quick to remind me of the memories
It helped make

I'm convinced I have no reason
To break these chains
An empty house, alone
Is better than such bad company

The psychics were breathing smoke,
rummaging through my roommates collection of abstract art,
they told me what my favorite Modest Mouse album was,
they told me about my personality,
I told them I was a psychic,
they told me to *******.

Everyone assumes an original identity
in the self-inflicted apocalypse
provided by that old friend, alcohol.

Kevin was the smooth-talking,
drink-mixing extraordinaire.

Kara was the cynic.

Shawna was the kindhearted.

Evan was sober.

Tyler was in and out.

I was the ******* that took a party pill,
bounced off everyone with a handshake
and an apology.


We **** ourselves to resurrect,
piece together the discordance,
the chaos,
the girls.

While the psychics were breathing smoke,
while Kevin was collapsing,
while everyone was worried about me,
all I could say was,
"This is the happiest night of my life,
and that depresses the hell outta' me."

I longed for the sirens in the distance,
I took another drink,
I longed for renewed innocence,
I took another drink,
I longed for someone to lay beside me,
I took another drink,
it was finally enough.

I took off my shirt,
made war with the remnants of stability,
of sanity,
told my friends I loved them,
and hoped that my time ended in sync
with the sunrise.

i thought i was going to play the good guy,
i didn't even get a line,
an extra,
mr. passerby #7,
only a glimpse and a goodbye.

When my body's time is over
And it's time that i must leave
Although i am not with you
Don't feel lonely..please don't grieve
For sadness is no friend of mine
Yet sorrow may be strong
My spirit will be with you
In your heart..where i belong
I know the world will turn about you
But my love shall never die
When my body is but ashes
My soul shall learn to fly
To be one with the universe
On land , in sea or air
In every ray of sunshine
you will feel me..i am there
And when the time has come my darling
For your soul to rise above
We will be together always
For all eternity....in love.