<\/p>\n
weeks pass again, and
\nanother morning fell into my lap
\nthere was no herald
\nno revelation
\ni got stuck on the first line
\nin and out of time
\nas this
\nsubtle haze
\nlingered on me
\nlike an old coat
\nwaiting to be washed
\nor thrown away
\nthe future was a
\ntangled mess
\nof past and present threads
\na song
\nwithout a chorus<\/p>\n
it was a joke really
\ni didn’t want to write
\ni’d forgotten what it was like
\ni’d forgotten so many things
\nas of late, with
\ndays ground down
\nto a simple task
\nand
\nnights spent dreaming, drinking,
\nfucking, and sleeping<\/p>\n
so I splashed water on my face
\nand, in haste
\ngrabbed a book and
\nturned on the computer
\nbecause, who can sleep in
\nwith all these cats, dogs,
\nthis,damned internal clock<\/p>\n
and after all these pages
\nthey still don’t define me
\nbecause these words provide
\nconstant renovation, reinvention
\nthere are too many stars
\nand not enough supporting actors
\nand the truth
\nis stranger than fiction<\/p>\n
cats playing in a bathtub
\ntoo much chatter
\nand i remember thinking
\nwe, all of us
\nget old, some
\nsooner than others<\/p>\n
i’ve watched them all
\nsettle down and settle up
\nbut
\nthey are the lucky ones i think
\nbecause
\nthere’s only so much crazy
\none man can take<\/p>\n
it seems that now
\nwe are all aged hardware
\nalmost obsolete, and
\nwaiting for the next generation
\nto take the stand<\/p>\n
my friend said
\njust be simple
\nand i was reminded of the old woman
\nbeautiful, blissful on her meager routine
\nand happy for all she had
\nremember the fall
\nfirst blood
\nthe death of old
\nand please, don’t stay cold<\/p>\n
well
\nthese bones aren’t (c)old
\nyet
\nbut i know
\nthey will be
\nand
\nthe only salvation
\nis in self control<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
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