You’re here to be forgotten That’s #1 Don’t walk with your head too high Lest the whetted hand of clock cut it off! In your time You might stand for something Stand against the crooked looks On a frayed high wire Above a spiked pit You might stand for liberty While the crowd breathes fire…
Read more
The bookshelves burst in our youth Too many stories. How can they all be? Perhaps, you dared look inside to prove the pages weren’t blank Each a setting, a beginning, an end? § So, young minds favor pictures over words Pictures give us space and are rife with potential Text can be cold and…
Read more
more important than the water on your boots and the schools of hungry fish beneath is the anglers echo It is the essence of conservation when the dry fly lands, silently and dances naturally by mending line perfectly and slips slowly into that pool that pool you know better than you now anything on dry…
Read more
Im a sick degenerate gambler Have been at the table for years Winning streak I watch the dealers sordid eyes But I risk it all again Loss is one hand away and the house always wins in the end
I was merely ore Dug from a valley of oil and stimuli Ore of a “privileged” metal Though somehow in weak demand My value falling before my eyes Sifted and sieved by judgement Small pieces of me mixing with pieces of others The dust of me colliding with circumstance We all begin as ore…
Read more