Sick shoes
Nothing new
On the road
Out of fuel
Hold on tight
As the fever passes through
Sick shoes
Nothing new
On the road
Out of fuel
Hold on tight
As the fever passes through
In a parking lot
West of town
Water falls
Straight down
Into the puddle
On the ground
Into the swells all around
Tuesday conversation
In a rainy way
Make for a late night
After a long day
Into the morning
I go
With a new conversation
Being told
Over the hedge
In plain view
What was stolen
Was witnessed by me
And you
No doubt cast
Over the shadow
Of memory
What happened in that
Moment in history
Will live forever
In infamy
Braided greens
On the west end
Seems
Over to top
Beside the ocean
Good times
Signed rhymes
Of uncharacteristic hue
What holds me down
Pushes me up too
Liquid snakes
In the deep grass
Beyond the light
And just past
Where the shadows
Fall
From the tall pines
Near the woods
Nearly all the time
A fence runs along
The seems of a property
Judicious in its connecting pieces
Separating the easements
All fences have the imperfection
Of construction
And deterioration
A fence from the ground
To the sky
The coordinated volcano
Knows when to blow the steam
When to burn the smoke
When to break at the seems
It can shut its leaks
And wait for the weak
When the coordinated volcano
Blows
Onion opinions
The popular trend
Begin again and again
With the same refrain
Said for days
A lazy sleep
Will wish me away
From the stinky options
Of spoiled onion breathe
Upon a delicate day
Casts shadows of death