start, middle. finish

and then there are these quiet moments.

where nothing else is happening -

where there is no outside influence

and my street is as close to silent as

a pleasant street ever could be.

I can hear my thoughts

and they speak with clarity.

in succinct rhythms.

they say "ignore your past!"

blow your narrative up.

I just am tired of living

to tend my own shadow.

its time to create my own

spot. To talk about what really

matters.

Let it start, no,

let me start. 

chitarra battente

I dreamt that I was in a boat.

In the greenest sea imaginable.

At this exact moment I need to smoke.
First though, a quick thought,

Yahweh

I wont make a move,
until your social queues
and mine match up.

Like the ease that exasperates
your Christian name;
from your given, and they're
both ones I never use.

like/unlike

My memories betray me
from time to time.

I become selective with what
I remember, selective to fill
my own action's narrative
with what bolsters what I feel
the outcome to be.

From holding back on how I currently
feel, to attempting to be finite in
my action(s).

Nothing ever is finite, save death.

And each day is just a tiny bit
like/unlike the day before.

So today, I'll forward my thoughts
to everything being what it will,
what I want it to be.

And let Otis take my brain home,
with cigarettes and coffee.

Well as conversations to be had,
and things to be done.
I accept all to be.

Understatement.

I've moved.
And changed quite a few things.

The air is easier for me to ingest here
always the smell of freshly mowed grass
and lots of sunny days to be had.

I have a farmer tan on my left arm!

The ground is familiar,
and most of the places the same.
And the one's that have changed, normally for the better.
I'm surrounded by most of those
who I love, and who love me.

For what I am,
not what I could become.

And to say I'm thankful for that,
well, would be an understatement.

I'm glad that I made that choice.
And only for myself.

Random Occasion

No struggle ensues between:

man and woman.

nor

Bear and Braun.

Razor cleaned legs

Proportioned and tanned.

Walking to be unencumbered

Straining to hear a far reaching

reveille.

The sound of Dixie horns surround and drag

 you

     around.

          until, only until

              they do(nt)

It builds tension (like an unenclosed

end

parentheses.

there's this

dichotomy to be aware of, and

I completely am.

Even if.

It does blur lines on

random

        occasion.

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