Sunday, July 21, 2019



Glass half full
Sipping wine by the pale glow
Of a half moon.
Those were the good old times
Full circle quarters and silver dimes
Change for a tip
It’s all we had left
Heads or tails,
Stay or go,
Anyone could love you 
In that sliver of bursting June moon;
Visage radiant,
Freckles like browned pebbles 
In the bed of a winding stream
Flashing in the tree refracted moonlight
Half past four, happy hour slow
But I am the one
You’ll loathe and love
I am the one to praise and damn,
Make your stomach clench 
Drive you insane
Make everything fall into place
But I am also
the one who writes for you
who will find the words as I
wander through the rain,
in the gray contused dawn,
Unsuspecting soul,
your face heavier and drawn.
trudging off to market:
milk for the kids
low on detergent
(it's raining again
it's raining again)
I see you as before 
I see you as when
I see you as next then
fully realized
you seem surprised
to see me now
Half way home,
Half happy, half pleasured;
Paradoxes of Zeno
It always feels like a full fledged pain.
I pour myself and I pour myself
But there’s a hole in the bottom;
A heart always half empty
reserved for all that's to come


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