Part 2.

I am a simple man,

The simple man said.

With meager eager plans

And a straight one type of head.

A chalk outline of things to do.

People to see and things to make.

I bring a bag to parties in order to

Sustain the image that I fake.

A quiet time of pleasantries

And empty dates I never go to.

I leave to gaze at pleasant trees

Instead of those girls that thoroughly think through.

I am a pleasant simple man

Said the not-so-simple man.

Part 1

She wandered through those flower beds,

And whistled while she went.

The songs felt warm inside her head,

Pounding with every second spent.

The spring of green was shimmering,

And it was the finest she’d ever found.

For she had been walking with nothing to see,

And her eyes had started to stare towards the ground.

I can’t seem to write today.

My mind is on a few other things.

And I have too little time,

And I have nothing to rhyme

with,

And my heart is full of life,

But it’s covered up with that day-by-day garbage trash.

So to keep a promise, I’ll write something today,

And try my best to make it sound okay.

Scientists tried to define love once more.

They got caught up on try forty-four.

With beakers and potions and accurate lengths,

They couldn’t find what gives a heart its strength.

Congress passed a law for lovers.

For all to write about what takes them over

The moon

And what makes everyone swoon.

But no one could understand the writing

If they hadn’t experienced that same red tinge.

Westerly Whittle-sticks.

Whisper to me please.

I swear I’ll listen now.

I stopped that white noise, made it cease,

And now all I can think

Is

Maybe sun rays choose what faces to make bright.

They weigh the pros and cons

and find the right ones to fall upon.

Maybe I can finally feel that warmth for once

To fill up my pores with something I want.

Have you ever been a thousand years old

For just one moment?

Have you ever seen the sun rise

Twice in one day?

Can you imagine what would happen

If things stopped making sense?

Send money for drugs.

(For me)

My head is exploding-

   My god,

   These magnolias are beautiful

   As they faint

   All over the ink-spill post-dawn

   With shadow women, flowers full-figured.

With what if’s and why not’s-

   Those eternal have not’s.

   Magnify me, darling.

   There’s not much left anymore,

   Our America

   Is burning in a trash can, again

(For Her)

She dragged me dignity and all,

Back through those treacherous thought tunnels

And onto magnificent magnolia mattresses.

   Fuck…

   It can be hard to adapt

   … and where

   Did I put

   My keys?

I keep losing

        What can’t be spared.

Maybe if I just did that on purpose.

(For us)

Doesn’t this morning taste a little different?

Like an evening colored with a still coming sun.

There’s light rising on the horizon,

And we’ll live through the highs and

   Lows.

Nick and Tom

He stood upon the precipice and noted the changing weather.

Those ancient rusted ships sunken in the ocean, whether,

By storm or bloody battle,

Never hear an engine rattle again.

And farther still, he searched the waters.

He spied a fisher’s boat a little farther.

The nets were torn, and the fish were free,

To swim back to their schools, all shimmering.

But closer still, he felt the sand beneath his feet.

The pulsing earth that gave life its beat,

Cracked apart, and the golden snow filtered down

Into the unknown darkness held below.

Just remember dear that this will pass

Like forest fires that leave dust in their path.

That’s the way of life, it seems,

To leave a little space to grow again.

A valley of dust and a bare track to run,

Always try to lace up your shoes before your turn.