The sun still shines and

the sky remains blue but

something lurks beneath

Spitting vitriol 

like cobra's venom is now 

innate, a knee jerk. 

A small-town parade

passes by with both old and 

young waving, smiling

Glimmering ghosts of

the heart still visit from time

to time, mere whispers. 

You check and recheck 

hoping some random message

will change everything.

This remains and

will always be untitled 

and without meaning 

I'm a stumbling and

bumbling and sometimes foolish

man (on the inside). 

There's something to be 

said for returning to the 

known and the mundane

Perception's doors may

be hard to open but new 

paint can trick the world. 

Places I've never been:

Topeka and Timbuktu

with no plans to go

Ten thousand years for

this stone to make it ashore 

that I hurl back home 

 The early morning 

LA traffic, like rushing

waves breaking on shore.

Noonday sun makes me

sleepy as the cicadas

sing a lullaby 

Running desert roads 

one eye to the ground watching

for somnolent snakes 

Desert hawk wary

a sentinel on top of 

a power pole glares

A pristine white shirt

is always waiting for a

chance to get dirty

Ain't nothing in this 

world for free they say (except 

love, hate, and samples). 

How can we traverse 

this world of chimerical 

longings and darkness? 

TICK TICk TIck Tick tick 

the time draws nearer for you

and me and the rest. 

Shadows of shadows 

cloaked in silence and secrets

once called me by name. 

The things we once loved

so well can be found at the 

back of a closet.

The dogs whirled and twirled

and romped in the sparkling late

afternoon sunshine 

He said he had no 

more to say (a lie) for nil

is still an idea 

We, hairless apes, push

towards destruction at

breakneck speed for what?

Death has many names,

games, tricks, and traps, and always 

wins no matter what

From the far distance 

of years my disasters  

look so small and dull

Time is a slipshod 

method for recounting the 

memories of love

Fall in love with art

but not the artist for they 

are only human 

Yes, your life is an

endless grind but you have 

it better than some 

Existential angst 

coils around daily life like

a snake seeking warmth 

Delete and delete

to get closer to the truth 

of life, which is nil