The music drones
Late into the night
After hours
As the sunset
Slips out
Of sight
The air is dim
And full
Rosins from the bull
Pushing the city
As the air antiquity
Rumbles from below
The city vents
All on my own
Air Antiquity
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Tag Archives: New York
Dope Jacket
Man that is a dope jacket
As the man at the counter
Reveals
Late night appeal
I wish you a good night
And a great night rest
Dope jacket he said
With a slight jest
One Folly
Feeling alright
With a bottle of whiskey
And some cheap pizza
Walking around
Quickly
Walking a curved line
To the rooms
Late into the night
Laughter and jolly
As the night goes on
One mistake
One folly
High Tide
High tide
In a moments notice
Get the day on
Staying in love
And feeling the run
Of a high tide
Back Night
Back night
Feeling good
Late night Italian stands
Listening to some
Standards
Stranded in the back
Late night in the rooms
Red and white
Subtle and sweet
Denver
Painted grey
Skylines
Read out
Will say
A blue shade
Between buildings made
Light on the streets
Of Denver
Where we
Are
Reset Desert
A fresh reset
The desert has a way
Of clearing the mind
Out past the plains
And short of the coasts
There is a place
Where the air
Is clear
Fresh takes
On a new day
Palm trees along the streets
Down in the desert town
Fleeing Green
The vines wrap
Over the edges
Fleeing
Green
Making a way
From
The start to finish
I can relate
With that fleeting hope
Slowly crawling
Maybe to better
Maybe to worse
But ahead
Non the less
Headway Headspace
Headway in headspace
Feeling not a trace
Of a past lingering
Desperation
New hope
On this eve
Eyes up and feet down
In this rust belt
Little town
Life’s too Short to Eat Fried Fish from Costco
Life is short
And simple
Food is too
But somehow I am confused
How is a piece of fish
From across the world
Cheaper than one
From a pond
Right where I stand
Fish sandwich in hand
Oh great food industrial revolution
Not cheap
Just confusing
I would rather eat grass from
The lawn
Straw
Or other
Where in the hell
Did we go wrong
The food pyramid
Has been payed out flat
Turned into an oval
Of a conveyor belt
To our stomachs
Can we shut it off
Can we return to our own homes
Where all the good things are grown
A Cup of Songwriting 