I adore the gentle you, said the snail to the icicle.
The wind blew hats inside out and upside down.
“Hey, where can a guy go to get a drink in this town?”
I was just passing through, said the hobo to the officer…
The poet scribes his hidden poem behind the bar.
The bartender pours them strong, that’s his charm.
We dance recklessly and fall on our arms.
I hope I can call you again, said the lonely one.
You’ll never understand me, the moon told the tide.
But I obey your commands and sway, it replied.
The song is so long and sad the land crumbles to the shore.
The clouds shouted love when it’s not love is such a bore.
* * *
Which one of these is me?
I ask, shuffling through my photos.
Where is this young me?
And where is this laughing guy from 9-5?
Ah, but to complain about work is weak…
I’m blessed: so much, with love, health,
work, shelter… still I moan and wail,
and lament my shitluck in my wassails…
A shivering coward.
The golden light has touched me…
I’ve walked in the foam of the Pacific
with seashells for eyes.
I’ve climbed the mighty mountaintop
and watched the molten sunrise.
I’ve danced through time and space
just to arrive as your prize.
Fortuna was drunk with me.
Napa Valley wine lips I kiss.
Her Sunset Blvd is oh so sweet.
She’s got a mind like the Central Library.
I’m hooked on her gentle ocean breeze.
She shines like the Hollywood sign.
I want to surf her perfect waves.
The formulas are correct.
You don’t know what you’re saying.
I need to calculate it again.
Shut up! You don’t know what you’re saying.
Let me just keep doing the formulas.
You’re all out of numbers! Shut up.
Please just pass me a pencil.
Why don’t you just admit it?
No. No. No. It adds up.
You and your phony numbers.
This pencil won’t work.
You don’t have the numbers.
It’s all very logical.
You don’t know what you’re saying,
If I just ran through the formula again.
All your phony numbers are up.
I just need one more fraction.
It’s time to give it up, darling.
I need an eraser.