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Strapped in a straitjacket
with brinksmanship in his drink,
the First Mate tells his Captain,
“the ship’s gonna sink.”

Staring into the gaping hole
in the hull of his mind,
the Captain demands
answers for the reason why.

Without evidence
the First Mate opines,
“Perhaps it was an iceberg
camouflaged as a mine!”

“No,” the Captain complains.
“We need someone to blame.”
And straight out of his ass
he pulls the former captain’s name.

Unstuck in time
by a pressing
deadline.
Moment in crime,
dropped from
the high lies.

“I am the light.”
See if God has eyes.
It’s a terror scream tonight.

“Reverberated history,”
cry lives denied.

Explosive nihilism
stuck on standby;
a madness of mind.
No semblance —
rhymed against time.

Use your voice,
you might lose it.

Unlawful orders?
Just refuse it.

You’ve got rights,
but they’ll abuse it.

Cynical noise?
Just mute it.

We got work to do,
if you choose it.

Gotta
throwaway song
just for you —
found in a trunk
one afternoon.

Words
long ago.
Scribbled black ink;
time plays back
on recorded demo.

Tape
reel revolves
against head.
An idea only sleeps,
it’s never dead.

Hand to pick.
Guitar pickup
leaves no doubt.
Play it live, play it loud!

may the music
greet you,
may the words
say hello —
may you be counseled
by truths you have known.

may the music
fascinate you,
may the words
seep into your bones —
may you be chaperoned
when out on your own.

may the music
transport you,
may the words
become your own —
may you be consoled
when achingly alone.