When I was younger:
   I shuffled along,
to no urgent song,
didn't march through my day strong. When young and strong are the best time for planned  convictions.
There's no acting lazy, or slowing down to the crazy, unless you want to live ungracefully in this hard unforgiving world.
When I was younger:
   I lacked logic cause I didn't make clear my premise,
like a man with no plan, a sap with no map.  I wandered tither and yonder like a ghoal  without a goal, a ghost least of most,  no future to ponder.
When I was younger:
   I bogged down in metaphorical feces cause I didn't watch where I was wading, forsaking and debating, planning is for suckers, futures are for chuckers.
When I was younger:
   I did nil and stood still while the city raced around me, progress to astound thee, forgetting the earth constantly rotates 260 miles an hour- waiting for no one.
When I was younger:
   Like the Dodo bird I forgot to grow wings, was eatin by rats and things, became extinct and unlinked to a place run on business, consumerism and cash. On the rocks I was dashed.
When I was younger:
I became he who loses, with a broken compass and excuses, laying laggardly leaderless, with the snoozing and the boozing, and sold my initiative for a bag of grass.
That's when I was younger:
   I'm older than that now.  But I still remember. It's  hard being younger!!

There’s a corner of my basement
I can see it from the couch
It’s a doorway of light
Opening to a stairwell

A light is on near my bed
It’s small
A phone perhaps

I have headphones on
So It’s hard to sleep comfortably
I like to nestle my head into the crook of my arm

I stare at a worn down drop-ceiling
Those two lights are on either side of my vision
I keep waiting

I keep rolling into the cracks
I’ve had to adjust the cushions far too many times

A smile
A warmth
My eyes
I don’t want to swallow

The jar is closed
Pandora’s box of light opened while I streamed blues on Pandora
And I see the lights go static

They bend into each other in the dark
I wave my fingers in front of my face
I’ve probably killed a few brain cells here
Definitely.

Sorry Mom
I was bored and rubber cement is only 3.97

I’m drunk on a cleanse from oxygen
I’m sure my nostrils will thank me later

My brain could use an adhesive
Flexibility would bond loose ends
And repair the divisiveness

I have my hands in everything
And I can’t remember the last time I stepped in dog ****

But a hand in phylogeny is a backhand to Baptists
A hand in salvation is a slap in the face to the Darwinists I love everyday

I have a toast!
To the moment the rapture brings about our extinction my friends!

At least everyone thinks I’m stupid.
Right in the middle of the room is the right place to be
A bullseye for stone chuckers and monkey *******
A hand out for the druggies
And a jab at the churches who aren’t doing anything
A round of applause for cruel irony
And a finger turned up in a creative way to everyone who’s laughing at the episode

Vishnu would have a hay day
And I could use the extra hands.
Jesus’s are tied- I mean nailed up at the moment
But when miracles don’t happen anymore
Go read first Samuel, and you’ll see all this **** went down before

And there’s another cycle
History repeats itself
In through the nose and out through your mouth
Just keep a nostril over the jar
And don’t die