days that almost seem
to kill me
slow unridden
misdirection of energy
with old songs that play
uninterrupted and endless
poor words from a mind
robbed of it’s essence
the soul cries out
and the mind says
suck it up
there’s got to be someone
something new
seeking a familiar stranger
the comfort of stone
and keepsakes
in off-season archeology
searching with a newborn overview
oversold and legendary
are chiding me
to new extremes
routine is not success
nor the elixir of life
through cobwebs and
distant memories
life always finds a way
help now, from pagans and infidels
to rule the night
to watch and
to lessen my weaknesses
in a dream I was told
copper is the key
I want to snatch anarchy
from padlocked dissidents
and free spirited harlots
for the men in black
are just cops
in knockout roles
and the hippies are
lying in wait
till the weekend arrives
welcomed and unburdened
I have a friend who always smiles
he has no knowledge
of pallid workweeks,
loneliness or the poor
who drive beat up cars
down used up highways
he is my hero…