.Writing Out Loud.

... 

i am alone

but

i know many

i've smiled plenty

may i say

i think of you

when i don't want too

i want to light a cigarette 

shorten my life

cause there is nothin' else to do

.

-Found in a journal from 2008.ish.

darlin did you see that moon.. 

did you see that there moon darlin'..
in the month of november..
in the year '09..?
the harvest tones are warm in a cardigan
while shim.shim.shivering.shimmering
'cross the delaware on i-95 .
i sat on the passenger side in a dead.heads honda
passing d.w.a's pondering the thought of cliches.
i coughed.
perhaps in several days the silica will settle with the clay
and i'll be a better creation that day.
hey.hey
nani.nani
she.said
shakespeare.said
back in the day.
but.today. i sit in a rocket cat coffee shop
down a block.between.the bar of atlantis and a space
i pay to place my stuff.
but. hey.
i shouldn't be here.
so. high-fiver in the air.
.cause i have to bike eight miles to work on a converted loading dock.

(wink)

 'round.'round.'round i go

i told ol'gordon to stay where he stood
so i knew where to find him when i come back 'round.
he reminded me that ol'grand dad is waitin'
to warm my coffee at ten and twelve.
a good cup makes me grin.

don't ya know..?

well.i'll tell ya when you come 'round
how this proletarian gets on..
gets on..
under the ramped rounds of I-95.
no lie.

all is well.
as far as i can tell.
when good ol'grand dad is 'round.

"Hey there..
the factory could smell worse
on this here stagnat day darlin."
he says..

he says to me.

takin' my hand that good ol'grand dad.
later he be tellin' me stories
'bout singin' off key but keepin' with the beat.
i start snappin' my fingers
to the s0und of two soles shuffling dirty concrete floors.

all is well.
as far as i can tell.
when good ol'grand dad is 'round.

.Seven Dollar Dress.

I wore a dress worth seven dollars in the state of Iowa. My friend Gina lent me five of those dollars. The rest was paid for with a trout dish i made with twigs, figs, and dandelion wine.
Later in the day she and i traveled on down to Atlantis,creating rhythm with our kitty.heels hittin' the concrete.
We read the newspaper while sipping a local porter brew. We had two.
As i strolled on home, i overheard the leaves on a chestnut tree speaking to a woodpecker. "May you arrive in hell, pecker, thirty minutes before the devil knows you are dead".
"Until then".the pecker said."I'll continue pokin' at your strong stems".
The conversation made me crave a carrot.