Instead of watching actors
I watch chimps & birds.
Instead of arousing some
humanity that I don't have,
I take notes
on animal channel.

"It's not a natural life."
someone says &
they are lying.
At least the animals
don't sell fashion lines
on the animal channel.

Oops, someone got eaten.
Lordie, some babies died.
No matter how you gasp,
you're laughing inside.
It's the circle of life.
("That is so.")
On the animal channel.

I look for delimitation
to freeze the moment
for close examination
of the quantum fluctuations.
It gives me weird vibrations,
as if it'd known me before,
so I ask it for more,
and it gives me the finger.
Patience is not something
I can afford.
Pushed along these narrow streets,
in & out of consciousness
as the moon sways,
and the sun bakes,
and the dance keeps go
round & round.
I've been silly before,
I will strive even more.
There's no reason, only time.
There's no rhyme, save mine.

I keep tripping myself.
There's a chasm
that's my wound.
How it got there,
I forgot.
Hitting that record button
to find some clues,
to remind myself.
It cuts me in the middle.
Livers, lungs, brains, hearts
all fell out.
Then there are two people
instead of one.
They're somewhere else.
I try & try to beckon them:
incentives, illusions.
Impossible task.
What if I'm more scared than
they are?
How can they come home
when I'm not strong enough?

Not having to decide
or hear any noise.
Wouldn't it be nice
to lose weight just like that,
don't have to sit back
or look at another face.
Wouldn't it be nice.
Don't have to write another word,
or think of another excuse.
Wouldn't it be nice
to have no one to worry about
or any one to worry of.
Wouldn't it be nice.
Not having to drain another life,
or drink another Kool-Aid.
Wouldn't it be nice
to just sleep & see no stars,
don't have to endure the glares
of another desert or the injuries
of another just dessert.
Wouldn't it be nice
to just say nothing at all,
don't have to deal at all.
Wouldn't it be nice.

All I ever wanted to do
is to keep up with this thing.
I never know where it will turn.
One moment, it's despair,
the next, sunbeams.
Never satisfied with good living.
So, we are stuck together.
When it's happy, I feel bad.
When it's sad, I gain insight.

All I ever wanted to do
is to keep up with this you.
So arrogant & full of pride,
yet manage to keep the light.
When they say "bow", you say "fight".
Swimming in the moment,
except when you cry.
Maybe none of it's good,
nor any of this bad.

All I ever can do is keeping up
with this life.

There was a land made out of rivers & streams,
faires & star dust, sunshine through the leaves.
They froze in place as beautiful as can be,
an oasis that has become inaccessible.
The horrors of cliffs & deserts,
time stretches the distant, distorts the road.
Can't let go of finding things more beautiful,
maybe the next bleak dawn,
maybe the next broken soul.
Will it still be accessible?
Muster the strength as I grow old.
What I had was complete, long time ago.
Maybe the next wreck holds the map
and the strength to stay.
It's been inaccessible.
Not something that can be brought & sold.
Mountains of debts to cover up the guilt.
It's really inaccessible.
No-man's land in the dark, no one knows how far.
Scared of returning, paradise then death.
So inaccessible, pride & dust.