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A Moderate To Severe Case

Sixty-something singing something right out of Sadsongs,
Dreams of lithesome ladies fulfilling emerald dresses,
Going yodel for yodel with any Plant, Tyler, or McCartney,
The neighbors blink away their latest weekend distresses.
Another rocker has met his maker,
And one’s SLAP tear twists merrily away,
Eyes tear and then sight clears—
Time to remember, to forget, and dream it all away.
Longing for a Life when it was simple all in black and white,
But that’s all gone now, and my maker nearing closer in sight.
Suffering from a moderate to severe case of stupid,
Looking for love, I slammed the door in the face of Cupid.
And the sun shades down like suns often do;
While losing the grip for the thought of you;
Where’s that road poorly-traveled to happiness?
Can’t get there from here, I guess.

Following No One

I seem to be slouching
Forward onto my hospice bed
But I still remember my name
And I’m sure the cat’s been fed
But I can’t open the Just Tart Cherry
And the shoulder’s crap as per usual
All the Senators have stopped representing
Their polity with a calm and disdain casual
Tracked my keys into the box
Outside the box of what I can remember
Who I am and where I’m going—
I’m sure Fest Acadien is still in November
Pouring the second merlot
They say it’s good for my heart
I should move over to Alexandria
If I’d ever own what it is to be smart
Summter lingers on here is Austin
Need to replace the ac filter soon
I hope the rains pass soon
I wanna to see the Harvest Moon
But I know what’s coming
And I should get ready
But I’m so tired these days
And my thoughts are unsteady
To pack all this important stuff again
Boxes in boxes, memories in stiff cardboard
I had followed her here, a path made easy
But now to move for myself, O Lord
I’ll die here in Casablanca
Or any likely foreign shore
Not ready for the next chapter
Not alone, at least; not anymore
But time to let Jack out into the night’s stew
Hey Mr Tambourine Man
In the jingle jangle morning…