
Forsooth hirsute bard
Toot sweet to the barber chair
Mrs. Avery
Says Sylvia's done with your
Dirty scruffy hippie self
Taking what life throws at me one pitch at a time

Forsooth hirsute bard
Toot sweet to the barber chair
Mrs. Avery
Says Sylvia's done with your
Dirty scruffy hippie self

I'm the luckiest man in the world
For so long just giving things a whirl
My fun meter has been pegged in the red
Repairs are bound to cost some serious bread
Lifetime full of overdriven sounds and surrounds
With ringing ears and palpitating heart out of bounds
There's only one thing left to be said:
"What?"
Do you spend more time thinking about the future or the past? Why?

we replaced being
humble with glorified fake
reality stars
slender limbs entwine
bind me with tight enrapture
trellis tied love vine
prefer a good blow
of snow to a shimmering
sheet of cold wet sleet
value not blooming
on social media vine
is being humble

gratitude given
for being watched over by
machine's loving grace
Beacon of false hope
Lantern for lustful lechers
White House Bordello
happy holidays
when the hydrangea of hope
blooms for scant moments
It's with gratitude
that the drinking lantern lights
for all winter trolls

long night nectar quaff
prodigious ambrosia munch
satiated beasts
A Christmas exit
With a wink, lick, and promise
A glimmer of hope
a pinch of remorse
plus a sprinkle of regret
to make the angst rise
palpable regret
with dawn's first glimmer after
ambrosia frolic

our sighs echo out
into the dim morning light
through open windows
Just remember this
It's not that I don't recall
Just don't want to tell
Fluttering outside
Just thought it was a dim moth
It was something else
moth eaten moral
fabric will only dim light
on faulty recall
