Hacking away

Tall tales frame small talk
With a walk on the beach passing time.
Beneath the veneer of a man swilling beer
You're a queer kind of king of sublime.

Hacking away at the ice of the day.

She loved you. She left you
A blue smudge of makeup in rose
Tinted gloss, decrying you lost
Embossed on the hem of your second-best clothes.

A seat on a bleached pallid beach
You teach me the essence of loss
Beneath the veneer of a man drinking beer
You're a sheer examplar of your cross.

I thought I saw a man late last night
He couldn't see what was coming up from out the night
He didn't put up any fight.
Could it be that we forgot to say
Something warm, something glib to drive the frost away
That's how I see it anyway

There's something there, you used to smile
Come and let's us talk a while
It's not as if we can't.
But something always breaks
Tomorrow tells us nothing
When we refuse to listen
Cramped and unforgiven
Underneath the heavans.
But you used to smile
And we'd find something to say.

Thoughts from a Moving Vehicle

Shouldn't be content with ambivalence
Wouldn't be hell bent on dissonance
If it weren't so hard to reconcile
The whipper-snapping, infantile
Record of my past events.

Just Been:

One hell of a week
Or one week of hell.
I am not sure.

Here Comes the Sun

On a night much as this
Where the gleaming eyes of the waters
Gaze over a sleeping city
Came a lone man to his bliss.
Wearing ugg-boots and a scarf,
She drew the night in beads
Laughing as she hurled them into the waters
Till the gleaming eyes winked back.