these hurricane winds beat at the side of us but we ride them readily
our steady ship she blasts through
moving quickly through
i, screaming, “it’s been such a long time”
holding onto ropes with entire body held out to sea screaming “i guess i should be going”
wind beating at my face, ship
half capsized
our captain screaming “but time doesn’t wait for me
it keeps
on
going”
the thunder cracks,
the crewmates cheer
our nova, she rights
we see land in the distance
leaving her at the port the villagers of this place know that we are pirates
because we left the fucking music on when we went in
just to pick up cigarettes and mountain dew
to keep our engines running
and when we get back out our captain is already in his chair singing “we’re going
off the rails”
and we jump back in the ship, cast off,
singing “we’re going off the rails
on a crazy train”

On days that I’m working
It’s always so beautiful outside
And I bewail that I can’t enjoy
Sun splashed mornings
Chased by balmy afternoons
With an idle zephyr that bitten into,
Tastes of euphoria

But then again,
Maybe everyday is this beautiful
And I slouch till two in the afternoon
Not having the slightest inclination
To go beyond my dank room on the days
That I’m not ensnared behind a desk
Observing lives whittled down
To the pursuit of dead presidents

All things
are just things
until
something happens
that gives
the thing
mean-ing

That tree is not
my tree
but someone
had their first
kiss beneath it’s
boughs

That bench is not
my bench
but someone
slept there every day
for an hour after work
waiting for the city bus
(and missed it
every first time ’round)

This tree,
though,
is my tree
This bench,
my bench,

and I’d tell you why
but where’s the fun in that?