impatience is not a virtue, or so i’m told
‘impatience is not a virtue, or so i’m told’
hazily penitential for the crazily detrimental
vernal verdigris each time it’s sentimental
crumbling, rust red, no longer galvanic
attack of the panic organically manic
calm down to lark song, no stark wrongs
sometimes.
cavorting countryside sporting lies tacky
expected. all prevaricate like Frank TJ Mackey
vagrant apostles come and go docile
ardently pardon this passion, not hostile
ever.
posing life’s eternal koans, my own
conclusions buried in idle illusion
roaming the unknown in search of home
these eager delusions only beget confusion
always.
travels
‘travels’
Neither here nor there
The feel of fair air in my hair
On the road mode
Left the abode to compose this ode
One hand-rolled cigarette
Some new music in the tape deck
If I dared to invest then
Perhaps I’d face some regret
So
Connect the dots
Be they friends or robots
Small talk in earnest
The space walking internist
Free fall down the chasm
Insubstantially dark phantasm
Cares and sin to the wind
I’ve been. stayed and left
Thus
I’m traveling on whims
And forgetting the rest.
a night like any other
the nameless faces of shapeless masses
amidst murmurs hefting plastic glasses
disdainful eyes flit around like insects
collectively finding new mates to impress
time gets murdered ever so thoroughly
never returns let it go unburdening
nothing accomplished just a feeling thereof
easier to be lush than do what you love
but if you don’t let it this feeling won’t hurt
just do what i do and sardonically smirk
then join in becoming yourself faceless
since all seem to be inherently graceless