We always speak as
‘Every so often’,
When reality is,
our saying should be;

Always are the times changing;
always are moods swinging.

Always do we understand ourselves to be better,
able to concur as much
As the next.

I, for one,
Lack strength of all sorts,
In abundance I possess anger,

can be left in the past.


I’m Sane

It was just one last chord that struck,
And I was just the last guest in line.

And it was only ten o’clock,
But it was just me.

And I don’t think they really understood
Why I kept on about the scratchy horn
Playing over the speakers
And why it got to my head

And then I had already ordered
And it was time to go, I held my food,
And I couldn’t open the door
And a kind soul assisted me

And there I was, back on the street,
And I had no idea where to go.

And I did have a place to go,
But that defeats the purpose, now.

Get it Gon’

How many times ’til time forgets
What petrifying occurrences we left
No doubt an expletive
Behind with
What would have been suitable
for such undying circumstances
to citizens
of some non
directional advancement.

What time will remain
Considering absolute finalities
All which concern your regrets,
Confirm your subtle intolerances,
of none figured without your privilege.


serenity as its shown doesn’t make much sense

and candor in and of itself is meaningless

until shared correctly

not promptly.

the sale of a single item

can’t match one’s identity until released to them

find yourself in another

and you will always be found.

for AM