Keep You Close

Homeless vets, vacant lots, distant teens, all we got, the illusion of time with spinning clocks… always watching the door, for the next shot, kids hiding in corners, under desks, drugs on every block, and the tired cops throwing weight on the color of night, all while we give up the fight. Meanwhile, they’re scared for their life. Every minute earned, every pause, broken answers for a world unfurled, this price, no matter which side views wrong as right. We’ll pay with our minds, not our lives.

We’re falling away from perfect, my favorite part. Keep you close to my heart.

 

photo credit: Seo, Young-Deok – 2013

Ocean

You can’t absorb the world, Tim

It doesn’t work that way.

They’ve got to slosh through the puddles on their own.

The difference it makes, if any at all,

outside of the grey.

The world that complicates

Puddles into tidal waves

The ocean swallows with disregard.

With a blue-tinged smile,

and sea foam a mile wide.

Garage Stalemate

Digested and spit out.
Look at what we’ve become.
All the things I’ve done.
You thought we’d come around,
the passing traffic pays no mind
to the hum; streets and pavements
grounded over a lifetime of small favors,
repairs and traction for us to run each other>>>>>
out of our lives.
Who knew this place was sarcophagus-like
and stripped of imagination?
Pulled the vehicle in slowly and let the engine run,
no daylight exhumed and the garage door shut.
I manage to escape the fumes
because nothing can exist in the dark,
smothered by exhaust
deterred by retaliation.

Song #15

Here’s a rough scratch of a song with verse and chorus tentatively called What’s Left (of me):

Maybe you had it right all along, no freedom without sacrifice.
Life with blinders on- everything you were told; bought or sold.

See it for what it is, a complete void, used cartridges spent on the bathroom floor.
You had me by the head, heart bore into the apocalypse & you owe me this. Under closed eyelids

So here. Here’s what’s left of me.