Do not present me with
views of a perfect life...

Go back from
whence you came...

There are those who think too much
bulbous heads swaying in the breeze...

Sitting on my porch
cicadas bring summer night...

Another night
wraps around me...

What to do next
didn't seem to matter...

You want lovers that don't leave
and money to buy the things...

Hard to dodge shrapnel
cut by falling jagged shards...

A muddy mirror face, puddle reflection,
a drty image in the decadent disassemblage...

In between lovers
who cannot kiss away...

(The Day Was Dark/[Lost Love Lament])
Black holes bleed tears...

The debacle of the 20th century,
and I just another lost seeker...