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October 23, 2023

Thoughts On A Friday Afternoon

any man’s death diminishes me, but not as much as my own
or how’s it go? don’t ask for whom the bell tolls

Alexander hates it when people talk about themselves in the third person 

Jack Kerouac lives! no, his spirit never died, he’s still on the road 

being drug down that road he no longer travels himself

or down roads he never traveled upon

quoted and misquoted and made up quotes

cold breaths of november are missed

morning sky tapestries of yellow and orange

giving way to hot blue skies of yellow blur

hiding from the sun in a cool dark bar

hiding from the law

hiding from life in general

later on, I’m going outside tonight to listen to the moon and stars

whispering music of the maple trees above me

not going anywhere, just wandering 

you and your sutras and boottras

put your zen nonsense in your frayed backpack and get out of here

go to your beloved zendo and fossilize

no different than hiding in a bar

any day above ground is a day above ground 

after walking the earth, that’s what I’ve found

staring at a miller neon sign

drinking wine and wondering what might have been 

coulda, shoulda, woulda

but it’s water under the bridge, so what difference does it make now

what’s done is done, done wrong or otherwise

the old dog just lays on the floor looking content

his head not full of crazy thoughts and regrets

stop by the liquor store and pick up some

at my friends new house and in the distance I can hear a train…I like the place already 

I walk in through the screen door slam

the aroma of incense wafting throughout the new house of happiness

a lone evergreen candle flickering silently by the window as I walk by

soft lights and big red pillows

softer music caressing the air

this is the kind of house and atmosphere I’d want

if I ever got myself straight

if I ever worked steady

my motivation lays in bed all day

and drinks all night