The doctor lost his patience
One too many times
They would wander like school children
Through the cornfield of his mind
In their single filed silence
Was no ordinary line
Because the doctor and his patients
Walked for miles in simpler times
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The Road Between
Sometimes all there is to do is drive
and drive, and drive, and drive until
you forget to where you’re going,
you forget from where you came,
and you remember there’s no difference
except the road which lies between.
And when you don’t got the wheels
or means or place to stay
you walk, and walk, and walk until
it all makes sense enough to go away.
And you remember not to worry so much
as in all walks of eternity
you’re a part of this one, and the heartache
pain and blame is all just slapstick.
It’s a grand ole comedy of magic and men
who’d drown before they’d ever dive in.
So the next time I, see-you-me,
I hope we’re swimming in the Milky Way!
Travelers through time and time forgot,
our elephant minds remember.
Selfies of Ourselves
Perhaps we take photographs
and selfies of ourselves
in the event that someone might care,
in the event that someone we haven’t spoken to
in a long, long while, might see us there,
and just for a second consider the thought:
that everything’s quite alright.
Or, perhaps we do these things
in order to remind ourselves we’re alright,
even when we’re anything but.
Our Current Social Dilemma
We went from public displays of affection
Straight to public displays of everything
Now leaving nothing to the imagination
Embracing it all, then apologizing for it after.
It’s like some convoluted social stream of consciousness
That forms a figure eight of disingenuous pandering
One which tastes to a choir of social unrest
Like change, its value null, when in reality it’s all just
As sad and dull as high school sex.
Bliss
Don’t know how long I’ll be back,
but I am now. It’s like
waking in a movie theatre
while the credits roll and suddenly
everything and nothing’s changed.
You don’t know what everyone else saw
but you’ll take their word for it.
And with arms akimbo they just watch
you pocket your hands and head home.
So if I don’t see you today, then tomorrow
perhaps we’ll go swimming? And maybe
for just a while we can pretend
that I never left us in the first place,
and that this was all a dream, and that
starting over didn’t have to mean the end.
Destiny Awaits
To some today’s today.
To others, today’s a destiny.
Confirmation(in the form of being)
Tell me his name
And I’ll give him your word
Though to an illusion
I can not confirm—
Within him lies many,
Within you lies more—
His name’s but of flesh and bone.
So tell me your name
And I’ll give you his word
Be it not an illusion,
Something I can confirm.
Solace’s Depths
People might never understand
sincere isolation or solace’s depths
until they find themselves
most comfortably within
their own weightless bounds of solitude.
for John Fante
Perhaps I’ve said too little,
perhaps I’ve said too much.
Whichever be the case Fante,
perhaps I’ll Ask The Dust.
Eyes glazed open
Then you wake up
Eyes glazed open
Sleeping by her side
And again, you realize
What’s most important
Now more than ever
And without a doubt
Like the sun, you rise
Words Of An Average White Male 