the little flaws in reckoning
have set the mortal coil adrift
and leaving not that much to sing
while listening fifteen times tonight,
the slanted needle in Betsy
Reed, Richard still remembering
& triple G with dreams to see,
cashed in with too much sobering
for even gypsies sharing leaves
and not to sentence anyone
to nailed up fixtures holding thieves
alongside someone else's son,
where tears and blood are fountaining--
perhaps there is some more to bring.

could this be all you need to see
my misdirected feet turned late
in reassessment of the need
that someone banging on the gate
must have for human consequence
for breath that moves the dust again
the spirit no less hesitant
beneath this inconsistent skin
long parched by lack of festive nights
rough sanded by the loss of time
that somehow wasn't added right
with all results disqualified
we should be keeping this discrete
well knowing it must not repeat

in this imperfect paradise
strung in between the quiet night
a chiseler in melting ice
ambivalent about the light
goes missing when you look away
while colors change their future

assurance isn't evident this year
our lord not keeping time
but speeding up
an amateur ill
fitted for an old folks band
whipping the skins
like there's no tomorrow

Then her impending nuptials
Were what derailed our love affair,
As often is the case with fools,
Who don't have sense enough to care
That locks on bars still have a key,
And sentences expire with time,
And locked up gackers get set free
At midnight when the towers chime.
Has time run swift beneath your feet,
Enough to turn your head again--
That sideways glance, the summer heat,
At last the fall come out within,
As you, my love, conspire with Puck,
Goodfellow with a slanted look.

She's not close tethered to the truth,
Considering the bone-filled cage
That closes quickly after youth,
Without the service of a sage.
So offer me the opening,
Your mind, your heart,  your lips below,
And join the ****** in mortal sin
That makes the lower regions glow.
Hard knowing when the noose is slack
Who'd slice it at their peril or
Who cuts and runs,  who's got your back
When things are too much to endure.
Allow me when you need to live,
To offer all I have to give.

of all transgressions recognized,
the worst is what misuses most
the power of a lie disguised
as love