He Who Holds up the Mirror

He Who Holds the Mirror

1. 

Thunder rumbles
Calls me
I look out the corner of my eye

Earthquakes stake a right
of passage into my heart

If it were not for
Addiction
I would pay attention

That’s the thing

conspiracy spins
distraction

keeps me away from
paying attention

sugar, corn syrup.
kardashian
floods news

when I don’t seem to see
who is the one holding the mirror

At the End of Civilization

At the End of Civilization

We may as well go live at the end of civilization
in Corolla where the horses wild roam

The sand will surround us
The sea will creep in

I in my button down parka

He in his button down frown

Is it the year of 65?
Silver savers, gold purveyors

“I will try to fix you”

Yah, that’s right
I still do

I know it doesn't work
I don’t care

it gives me a cause

I don’t have any

so any old one will do

Let us go then
you and I
to the end of civilization
in Corolla
where the sand seeps in
and the sea

Pushes us out to the
sky where our ship awaits.

Chronic Pain

Sometime I feel like a motherless soul 

I wander from place to place
i sit beside him

he sits in his chair
hey so do i

corrupted by pain
in a stupor

its a shame
we have no
repartee

just rockets
with seats onto
our own universe

Cut off by chronic pain
Art would say
no pain = no gain

and I guess Art
would be right

I remember when
the muse resided in him
creating fulfilling now
he knocks on his door
anxious to get at the
gem residing in the long
hallway with erected crystalline
guards suffocating his outer
rings

I in my chair
He in his
Chronic pain