when lonely got me thinking i'd do anything to be without it

same story on the delay

        some things just take time

i'm happy you'll doctor up

               you can hear the dynamics

things are worse off than i thought back with since

      working know how to relate to    life's rich pageant

the twenty four will be difficult for a sentimentalist such as myself

good grades relish the role as curve destroyer

i am not ready to leave buffalo  

                  but the off chance you and bryan

considering talk and the south

excellent viewpoint both

    thoughtful   and reflective

add experience

  understand addiction

              be invaluable

in what is certain

            an expanding galaxy 

  isn’t easy to do

killing in singapore loan debt

      and maybe more

to get out from under the things they unfurl

the decidedly unreligious make it easy

       to forget the fervor that those beliefs can stir

             in zealots 

in conversation about networking with a fellow

    felt good until he muttered

‘all that work is well and good but it'll get you nowhere

unless you're with the network i'm with 

                     G*O*D

is the only thing i'll ever need

                to get exactly what i want’

but what if what i want

                             is fleeting
and there are so many competing
                    all i really feel like doing    is eating

                be there in about twelve minutes

stunned to silence 

                    and suddenly hungry

but what actually happened was that tipping point you see in people when they ask you to explain something   then realize it is more complicated than they’d like it to be and you see the words approaching their metaphoric ‘fill’ line  the eyes glaze forward with laziness  sloth and what spits out is derision for understanding anything that can’t be abbreviated

if it's difficult

      you quit

that’s the long and the short of it   then    
                                      you get something to eat

maybe we did that too           we don't recall  the how long of it all

                           singer has been taken advantage of  or   
                     maybe   she just called her own shot

                                                        i just hope she survives it

as i survived the cult of domesticity

              upon my move across the country’s height 
                                                                           not its width

when lonely got me thinking i'd do anything to be without it

Brion Gysin

charlie waters' late autumn sky

the trees reach

                     they always   reach

                                                                          higher even

                              with nothing really   to  weigh them down

   the bright sky

             like her blue eyes

    has  a   coldness

                      the edge around

there is a cloud streak

or a jet stream

                        the new day is shaking off its night

there's a couple hundred reasons

and a couple thousand worries

of where she is

                                                if she might

there are birdcalls

           and            diz cheeks

    there's a cello sitting right out here

                 on church  street

               

that's where the voice fades

                            yeah      

that's where i stay

                            it's the blue again       

 just cold enough

                to keep     

 but the dark earth

                                 has its own worth

        like the brown eyes

                                             that coffee gave to me

                                                      they watch      time crawl

                                                                         right down the back hall

                                                     minutes

                                                                              until                   eternity

                           here

                                    the high notes

                  of his saxophone

                                    are staring          at my breath

         they beat   back ideas

floating through years

                 just enough sand shift to make me

                                

photo by Charlie Waters