Perfectly lined rows of trees
Our escape from the mundane
Shaking away tilted visions
Of a ghostly morning train
Remembering her latent beauty
No place for such fickle motions
Return to living your current life
Set gently against the Atlantic Ocean
I have stacks of unused paper
Like the untouched dreams in my head
We all have the forks in our roads
But often take the easier path insteadSo many distractions in my way
To give in to them would leave me mundane
I don’t wish to live an ordinary existence
I’d much rather push the envelope & become insaneThe results always lead to the same ending
We’ll all wander into death before we’re through
I don’t want to take a straight line to get there
I hope to zig, all the while forever holding onto you
These broken & delayed dreams
Electric toothbrushes that constantly hum
A pocketful of change
& girls with eyes so pretty it makes me dumb
I’m not one to make a great scene
Yet I’m your average middle-aged guy
Not counted among the mundane
I couldn’t be normal, even if I tried
So we’re all stuck in this spinning limbo
A world with mixed up priorities & hate
I’m confused by all this wasted time
One of these days the hourglass will cease to rotate
So, I’m probably going to be late for work
For my beautiful woman resides in this bed
I could be responsible & get there on time
But I’m always going to choose to love instead
Image by Claudio_Scott from Pixabay
The eccentricities of life result in a varied solution
Notes & experience written into the far margin
Surrealist details woven into mundane worlds
A quiet cocktail of banned books & Bombay gin
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
Internalizing the segmented society & all the villains
Returning to coffee so black the void regains precious hope
Radiating a positive vibe henceforth
A smile & skip in the most mundane chores
Yet perceptions of domestic divinity
Always can accomplish just a little more
Backlogged Cinderella fantasies
Dancing amid a swirl with a feather duster
Cautiously watching; epically vulnerable
Wondering if my heart might trust her
It’s no fairytale ending, but a good life
A drink & a fire, quietly getting better
She’s content without our consent
Cracking a book, curling up into her sweater
