Flirting with a literary-inclined woman Sitting puzzled by the glances she took Wondering what’s swirling in her mind Guessing she’s judging based on my books
Worshiping the lady’s flesh I am not divine, yet hope she might be Kissing before daylight, the way we used to Adjusting to my senses; that I might finally see
Sitting at the windowsill Fingers stained by my ink Face red & tranquilly humbled Cold & tumbled; too frozen to think
The nights are dropping temps I’ll need to do everything to keep warm Though I’m unwrapping each layer Eagerly embracing your gracious form
Life is a fine chance to love you Trading kisses as I adjust your weary crown Telling stories of our younger days & the magic that happened in a little Arizona town
There’s so much talk of being wild
Like there’s a constant harness holding us back
But its just an illusion for others to see
You’re choosing to embrace all that you lack
These false pretenses are keeping you low
Images of a manicured life on your social media feed
Spending your days adjusting other’s perceptions
When these aren’t the actions a happy life really needs
It’s difficult to perceive any truth as you focus the camera
The projection of crazy as you manipulate your reputation
Here’s a secret, the honest people don’t really care &
The real wild ones don’t bother with perfect punctuation
Rubbing their fingers over the stereo knob The frequencies distorted on the airwaves Kings of the new world & thus apocalyptic Searching for something more pragmatic to crave
These technocrats with no concept of reality Tasking – without offering an alternate fate Demanding citizens for homages to be digital With no power to control – or else we attenuate
Words of peace have the chance to amplify Even when we’re feeling out of time/out of sync Don’t need their fiber optic lies to survive A blind man loses all when forced to blink
Tapping into a passion without any circuits Our transistors are live; we’re lovers thus discrete There’s no stopping us when their signal’s weak There’s nothing but fire & sparks when our wires meet
This life is forever altered now we’re here Do not attempt to adjust the squelch You’re listening to Radio Free America Standing proud & robust like Raquel Welch
Stepping out into the light
My eyes can’t adjust to the sunshine
Night left me with nary a sleep
Stumblin’ home to all that’s still mine
Life comes at you hard & fast on the inside
Wondering when the pitches stopped comin’ in underhand
Won’t wallow in misery nor memory of elsewhere’s joy
These speeches fail to convey truth I can’t understand
Where do we go to return to the proper roads
Did I miss the signal for the game to truly begin
I’m old these days; confused by angles & trajectories
Yet I can still & once again wipe myself clear of my sin
“If you’re in the middle of the ocean, with no flippers and no life preserver and you hear a helicopter, this is music. You have to adjust to your needs at the moment.” – Tom Waits