The Fly

I prefer my quicker shutter
When lumbering around downtown
Up town, and out of town

These nouns all move
So fast
So fancy, in the vast

I can be about
Without being found out
With my quicker shutter


We look ahead at sixty now
The gander, grace-filled
The graceful goose
Silvery fire, calm

So we wait and keep walking
Flying, when we’re able
But never again bewildered
If we would not be this
We could not be that

Original thought credit: Ms. Joni Mitchell; “Both Sides Now”

Signal Mountain Road

Make your way, you, into my night-thoughts, bandying about

Thrashing within my yesterdays, my tonights

An eternal terrorist, it would seem, with no new tactics

Age old, you’re old, I’m getting old and have had enough

I will tell you this, though you will not hear: I am more

More than this, more than us, more than you can handle

The proof is how it took forever for you and that you’re still trying

I’m still here, greater than any sum -look how you are less


I’d walk away from that song
Stand up
Assuredly and
Move as far from
Smothering, dark guitar riffs
Microphone too close to the lips
Smacks of the 70’s
Music, loosely-defined
Sounds no one thought much of
To this crowd, though, it’s fly
But I’m leaving the headache
The poor acoustics
The noise for these poor ears
Cue the fog machine and strange piano


a fortiori

Why the grown hawk would struggle on
The wind
I cannot know

I've seen it, though
And desiring
To help things along for regalness sake

I reached up on high
In prayer
To see burden lifted, compass-mark found

Go Fly

If I 
At the ocean
Awakened at last 
From the stagnant, salty air
Did then
Cut loose and blessed
A once-tethered
Prismatic princess
Would the gods of wind and sea
Worship me