|A dry martini or an India Pale these are divisions
to our thirst Ordinary faults mean cracks
in a sidewalk, in us, they could prove fatal
we cling to them like bad lies during soft times
we are curious and lightly laugh.
Some mornings bacon for the fat other mornings
skinny insecurities Hold your breath
count to ten little Indians What a mystery
this betrayal and when we don’t Alzheimer’s
is inside us No laughing matter.
Depending upon DNA age is no guarantee
of a missed train Settle in Everyone wants
something We all cling to a soft light,
not to the penetration of our darkness.
Last edited on Tue Jan 20th, 2015 07:49 am by timmy