the catatonic soldiers,
hands raised to ask
ultimate questions
disguised
as the riddles of sleeping,
we are grains of sand
on this beach
of the dreaming.
Standing at the ready to
be taken by the sea of
tranquil night
Pretending to aristocracy,
hiding our eyes in tapestries,
draping our bloodlines,
I used to be a blue collar hero,
I'm a statistic in a book,
on a spreadsheet that only has
Joe Friday information
What is the algorithm for loyalty,
What is the algorithm for loyalty,
the equation for a handshake.
Can you look me in the eyes and
ask me if I'm Joe public or
another demographic man.
Selling my words,
my sweat,
my back,
my blood,
via your web address,
does this URL tell you the real
measure of a man
There are no regrets as
I remember the feel of cigarette smoke,
gripping like an old movie,
familiar like a good friend,
a stab in the back,
uncomfortable silences that
new friends gloss over.
Can you forgive me?
Especially in my overwhelming innocence,
even in the staggering face of nostalgia.
The smoke lingers like that
look of disappointment,
like cold coffee.
Mentally I take a long drag, it
tastes like honey and shame,
I'm throwing this away,
crushing it under my soul,
making sure,
it is actually dead
UNCOVERING THE OLD
Buried, under those broken things,
Held onto for nostalgia and repair,
fixed,
broken,
unfixed,
in a panoramic cavalcade of lost
accomplishments and dignified failures that
build bitter character and self loathing.
I am a lonely wind singer
left to set among the
unraveled strings of the fates.
Have you ever been lost in your memories?
On those rare occasions when your past
Have you ever been lost in your memories?
On those rare occasions when your past
collides with your present and
it feels like two stepping on a grave.
Today I looked in the mirror and
saw the me you see when you tell those old
stories of our adventures.
Sometimes I remember him,
he used to believe in magic and
weave spells with his loquacious finger tips.
We drink coffee and talk,
but only occasionally.
He usually laughs at
my foolish pack rat collection of memories and l
eaves me to chant
my damaged incantations
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