bad time
to walk the line
cowboy's gotta gun
I think I gotta run
on that california grass...

sour song in the city-
the sweet swell of passersby
they never give a damn
or give a dime
to the man with the beautiful mind.

I asked an old man:
do you know how keeps the time?
who are the fool who write the books,
who are the fools who drink the wine?

"I don't know no men sir,
each one an intricate disguise..."
cloaked in power, choked on wine,
that man was very wise.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

how night seemed to suggest
swimming in romance

how night seemed to make
hearts glow brighter

sometimes there was paranoia-
eyes could be anywhere-
serial killers, drunk drivers, cops...
whatever the present day boogey-man
happened to be...

but in the night amongst that
soul-glow, that whisper-hum,
women were lovelier,
friends were funnier,
fights were rougher,
winds were calmer,
silence was soothing.

who kept such magic into their adulthood-
lightning bug bouncing off glass mason walls...

if you forsaken such a thing, why?

it will save you
it will prepare you for your dreams
sing truly with the crickets
'till you float back down from
our shared kingdom of stars gleaming wonder.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

(nocturne never-ending)

i pray you find your own mind

which lingers in billboards and
beckoning neon seductresses,
bank brunches and lousy lunches
Fox News at 10
CNN at 9
our world could crumble at 7 or 8
“hopefully one of them covers it”

i whimper for a clumsy parade of lost minds

i've swam the seas of ignorance,
and the water was warm,
but cold water gifts young eyes...
quite a kick...
solidifies endurance, electrifies roots...
try throwing cold water on a friend,
they might just wake up. . .

gaze into your own mind

which cuts itself and loves itself
fetishizes forthcoming demise
licks lips lazily awaiting love
but lurks in self indulgent sadness
until dreaming…
you want a thing you don't understand.
love and hate are of one seed

take back your own mind

from those who made you love them for life
nagging nagging nagging mama
please please let them put the leash on
midas machine member enveloped in
soft souring infantile flesh- early sunset...
it's not your fault you're a greedy selfish monster
drooling over God in his cardboard crown

you walk the streets shivering as
suspicious squinting eyes form like
brain pimples and peek out pushing
up lids

you know you know you know. . .

but tell me if you feel

that if
electricity ceased in times square

there would still be light