Old rockstars too late 

to leave a good looking corpse 

rely on hair dye 

A scythe's swoosh is the last

sound before the streets are bare 

but the graveyards full  

 

Red water ripples 

then calms again, but below

sharks feast greedily  

Once out in the world

words so wild are tamed and tromped 

on, caged, co-opted 

Engorged on public 

funds like fat ticks they inflame 

the republic's skin 

 Masticate with your

mind not your mouth and savor 

some meaty matters

They stood watching the

waves not comprehending that

it was far too late 

Brambles scratch and thorns 

stab as you ramble and journ 

through the endless night 

No shades of gray with 

your platitudes when you are 

in the black (and white) 

The mournful barge wails

heading downstream, emptied of 

its precious cargo 

Cut the line thinking 

it is a theme park to find

hungry wolves waiting 

Photos preserve the

moment but supplant the real 

memories we had 

Once we dwelled in trees 

tiny creatures ignorant 

of the coming storm 

Swept up like so much

refuse we refuse to be

dumped into your pits 

No silhouette by 

moonlight tonight, just darkness

and fear for us all 

The ant crawls across 

the screen, lost, alone, and hopes 

the curser can help him

Destroyer of worlds

or really just words, slurring through

your endless speeches 

Our bellies grow with

gluttony, while theirs bloat from

starvation and death

A wild saxophone 

tells a story of long nights 

in smoky barrooms 

Dewy jewels wait

to be plucked and eaten; stain

fingers red with juice 

Life piles up in the 

corners like so much dirty 

laundry needing care 

Algorithms run 

your limbic system since highs 

and lows drive dollars 

A studied pose to 

trick the world collapsed when he 

saw her joyous smile 

The fuse can be snuffed

out but it takes millions of feet 

stomping on the flame 

The dust motes await

vacation's end to dance in

the sunlight for us

Life rafts leak faster 

than lungs can pump back in air 

but for God's sake try 

Sit on your thrown of

bones and gnaw away at the 

last of your people 

Turn away in shame 

as your beasts that you refuse 

to leash tear out throats 

Old stones reused to

build a new world with human 

misery's mortar 

We're halfway through the

year and the to-do list is

still waiting for me 

 Music can be all

or simply background noise when

thoughts rudely intrude