he does not to leave the vine out of any loathing for his kin he simply can not stay waiting around to turn to raisin knowing that out there somewhere

tailored finely to be worn proudly on the dance floor on the moon over top-shelf martinis over the rainbow

if you dream me dream me without these horns without scorn back beside the lord

when at war for so long peace becomes an awkward conflict so you keep fighting

to reach for the pen only when you need it is a mistake you must reach for it everyday eventually it grows familiar with…

the best shelf in town bartenders driving the drunks home

streets become narrow and sidewalks vanish layers are important heavy socks and the right pair of boots

regret of the clock once wanted to be a watch even time gets lost

she passes a man but her scent is the full moon and a wolf follows

a foot wants the ground take each step with gratitude to walk is to live

all of my weary and all of my woe is made into perfect sense a common thread in my favorite son… familiar tones of sadness the beauty of malaise

in the final moments of dusk you r… a last grab at redemption to no possible avail toward a jury of stars and the judgement of the moon

Life is a series of tragedies with… But what is good for those who suf… than what is good for those who do… —for Brian Salvador Curley