deadfall freefall,
underneathe it all
a plummet pause;
reflect in recall —
witness wincing saw,
cuts razor raw;
an unnerved gnaw
numb to the call;
memories stall,
hurtling in thrall;
a lifeless clause
pulled ripcord draws
failure in applause —
fall, fall, fall,
time falls away from us all.

busy bee fine dines
before catching flight;
regalia fit for an azalea,
tablecloth in white.

wondrous wanderlust,
live love, live you must;
settle in, settle out,
round the corner
in a roundabout.

say hey, say goodbye,
be right there when I die;
true as you, true as me,
grab a little memory.

see the sun, see it fall,
live late nite last calls;
tip the bar, replace the drink,
bottom of an empty glass
makes a poet think.

where’d you go?
and who are you?
are all your fines overdue?
pay the piper? pay the price?
think you may? think you might?

no matter then it’s paper thin,
just remember when, remember life;
it’s a given then that then again
you may be made to think life twice.

it’s a gamble
to let go,
to let go of
probable control.

to let dice
just roll;
movement
beyond
your hold.

to tumble out
in frenzied
crash out —
as dreams
begin to fold.

to let the
table bet
against
what you
already know.

it’s a gamble to let go.

spend my life waiting
for nature to take it’s course;
but nature defies
without real recourse.

close my eyes shut,
the darkness held tight;
my body in suspension,
soul grasping at midnight.

open back up,
scene still the same;
despite all its mystical powers,
I have nature to blame.

awake aching,
forget all your words;
struck with forever feelings,
always feeling absurd.

stand up, you’re surfing,
floor moves untoward;
crash out on feeling,
feelings go underwater.

motel mirror mirroring,
reflection blinks demure,
you posit primitive feelings,
feeling becomes blurred.

after clock stops,
it’s six ways to Sunday.
the ball has dropped;
this runaway’s run
out of runway.

empty out the plot,
no sundries on Monday.
it’s the small things;
that tell-all talk,
it’ll ruin you one day.

perish the thought,
we die for Someday.
all things carried bought;
stopwatch to time,
it’s “mayday, mayday.”