it’s all in our imagination

don’t know about you      but my heart ain't in it        this is not my idea of a good time    hard knocks       tough questions      tougher lessons...     excuse me     I lost your signal     I phased out     heavy-lidded     a little stoned     vulnerable to kryptonite     went all buddha for a moment    the sun    the moon    the sky        never said I had a better way       there is no clearer route than your own heart     

you were mindful for the moment     you  kicked your shoes off and danced      and you scoped me out     with the most exacting eyes        gripped with power and wonder        can’t you hear the summer calling?     she calls on you by name         she didn’t want to be alone       she remembers the things we used to do      drunk on nectar in the season of promise     it’s all in my imagination      is it ever that way for you?

asphyxiation

 love is a mutt that follows you home       an overfriendly guest with a huge appetite      still, it’s your dime…       and it’s better than being alone…       isn’t it?      well, isn’t it?     or are you too tall for love?      too proud to stoop down low?    would you rather be a master than a slave?      well, love makes slaves of us all        some say love is life and indifference is death     surely it’s better to serve something      anything      than suffer that gradual asphyxiation?

I don’t always do as I’m told

 all truth is relative      all judgements subjective      nothing’s as concrete     as you’re led to believe       history is a lie      and so are you       but it’s too late now      to sing that song      I had my special k for breakfast     and fell down a rabbit hole     all the world’s tired old clichés      are gnawing on my bones      I stand accused      of stacking the deck       and playing by my own rules     but I don’t care      how far I go       as long as I get my jelly roll       I’m talking now as a friend       who understands the violence that breeds conformity       I have to stay real with myself     I don’t always do as I’m told

rehabilitation

 they sent a man from the council        to survey my state of being      he condemned the building       before he crushed my expectations         and flushed them down the crapper      he has a place in the country     said I could get my head right there      he promised me the good life      as he understood it      in supported living    fucking do gooder       has me on his list     but I won’t move an inch    I’ve embraced self improvement     I’m seeing beneficial angles     there might just be a score     in this rehabilitation racket

dear reader

we are all of us mad     and acquainted with sorrow     and that being said       we’re maybe better for it      if that’s the natural order    and it seems to be   dear reader     we have suffered      we have suffered to our shame     I hope for your sake     that your greatest regret    in this season of regrets    was an affair of the heart     that’s where it counts      because that’s the best of us     that’s where we live      love and betrayal      it’s a fearsome thing     but the crimes we commit for love       are perhaps our saving grace