Blog Archives

The Grey

She, the woman, isn’t insignificantly pretty
With her heart made from aluminum foil
Easily malleable to mold to any occasion
Eager to tweet, post, bake, and/or broil
Do you have a clue what you’re doing
As you try to stay around in the game
With dubious knees and thinning hair
Knowing all that’s new is still the same
Can you manage the latest yoga pose
With your nasty case of a SLAP tear
I’d still chase a skirt, perhaps even flirt
Though nothing much happens down there
I should have married that pretty Craddock
I should have done lots of other better things
Now, waylaid on the exalted road less traveled
I now know what bitter loneliness brings

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…