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.

Light and love.

For once I’ve got nothing to say.

And that’s o.k.

Or, no…(insert breathe here)

Best not talk about it.

Best leave’er be.

Besides it’s 6:00am and

I can’t sleep so you tell me?

See, the sun’s still going to rise

and I’m still going to run

and Allen’s still going to love

everything and everyone.

And now that I believe again,

so it is, as it was, as it’s always been.

Light and love, light and love, light and love.

What’s the point in saying anything

with so much more to say

than what you’re actually saying

you just kind of don’t think you do anymore

or perhaps you haven’t found the right words

because I could go on all day about it

so don’t lie to me kiddo

I could punch all the mirrors in the world

but it wouldn’t make a difference either way

that’s just a cop out and I’m taking the cuffs off.