We kept dancing
Long after the record stopped spinning
On the verge of your dreams
The fire’s low; the air is thinning
What happens tomorrow
& long after we’ve awoken
Will these dreams ever return
Will this spell be forever broken
We Kept Dancing
record
Brushing The Record
Brushing the record as it goes ‘round
Morning comes faster when you can’t sleep
Sipping the tepid coffee down to the grounds
Delirious; mind wandering depths so deep
Trying to move your body; needing a gentle stretch
What more to be done when you can’t think
Misinterpreting grumpiness for ravings of a wretch
Settle down; give me a moment for another drink
I Want To Touch You
I want to touch you
Taking in your hips, nips & lips
Forcefully; against the bookshelf
We keep making the record skip
There’s no quenching this fire
This passion burning inside me
I want this life to last forever
Keeping pace with the love setting me free
Suburban Arcades & Record Stores
Suburban arcades & record stores
Love notes left jammed in the teletype
Ancient technologies lost to whims of time
Sacrilege of consuming before it’s ripe
Littered by dreams of public-school poets
Falling to the feminine side of healing
Whose obedience to authority lingers
But only the lonely are rhymin’ & stealin’
Our literary antihero catching the cliff notes
A repressed childhood is still better by half
Trying to make up for that deleted time
But you can’t get far by writing on decaf
Standing with arms braced to the wind
Needing antiquity to know how we perform
Rolling empty dice against our loaded fates
Summer on the coast ensures the storm
Where Are The Heroes For Our Own Time
Where are the heroes for our own time
The poets & warriors to lead the charge
I’m not the effigy of your incompetent apathy
Merely the pirate of record, by & large
Who will join me among these ranks
To beat back the mind-numbing attitudes
To hell with society & its reality television
Taking my crew to more temperate latitudes
Captain Q 