to the deepest thirst a drop of water looks like a rains… over a rushing river lips moisten with hope and the heart drowns with sheer re…
some nights I talk to them because i have no pets and i am alone i make promises “tomorrow we will go for a walk”
what I love about this country is the jazz and the blues and
what happened to it? pen with which he wrote the note ink of his last words
the Allen Bradley Tower clock looks at me like an all knowing ey… it tells me “you are home you were not born here
i drag this carriage with a whip at my back slowly leading them to their destinations to their privileges
dressed only in screams showered with water and death life escapes by drain
it was the hottest new spot on the east side of course and of course
monuments of song returned to life in my hands records from dead men
so close to travels rocks along the railroad tracks never board the train
i can smell a clue about as well as a rock and if you’re waiting for me under a rock
i had most of the adults fooled the family was easiest they were none too bright what little smarts i had i must have got from my father
i expose myself a show boat and a show pony i suppose myself a poet
though it takes a daily muster of all you got empties you out and leaves you wanting
A bleak winter day has come to me with one rose alive in it’s hand. I am asked when spring will set it… when the leaves will return to the… and more roses will bloom in the l…
