We’re Going Streaking!: 365

Now That I’m Old…

Now that I’m old, there’s no chance to be cool I’m that creepy lurker passing the delicates isle Finding myself lost in nebulous thought Youth dropping their eyes while I try to smile You can’t be friendly when you’re a certain age Somewhere along the line, I missed my cue Oblivious to the graffiti on

Empty Wine Bottles Clink; Devoid Of All Inspiration

Empty wine bottles clink; devoid of all inspiration But that’s not the way you remembered they bled Choosing the perfect wording for posterity A trembling shadow of what the poets once said We once set out to create a fresh universe But that’s not the way I can any longer think Falling in love with

Transfiguring Lips Into Fabergé Petals

Transfiguring lips into Fabergé petals Feeling decadent painting the night sky Let us rejoice with our illustrious words Palpitating deliberately when bliss is nigh These fanciful & bountiful thoughts of yonder Possibly plentiful but not quite enough for us Imaginative; creating a softer substantial side We’re most serene when we’re a bit mussed

I’m Seeking A Truth

I’m seeking a truth within these fragmented words My thoughts won’t cooperate with how my fingers move Typing on this old handmedown machine to transform My mundane existence into a magical, deliberate groove I am not afraid to expose the flesh of a wilted soul There are no heroes in these parts, just broken misanthropes

Wipe This Life Down With Bleach

I’m gonna wipe this life down with bleachMy words deconstructing Samson’s beamsWhile I slowly & deliberately devour your peachAlas, you discovered too late I was the man of your dreams