the column of man

all we have is time

time is what we trade

because it gives off light

we used to have more light

light that we sent away

into space
 

 

if you look into the emptiness

you will see countless lights hanging in the sky

never going back

A hidden idiot in plain sight

To play for you something that I am, that is my tragedy.

For you to give that which I am not, that is your role.

I am man unreturned.

I learn to love my fishbowl and my self medications.

A perfect plan.

But it never works out for you.

I am to blame.

I am the other side of the glass.

And none of us are free.

broadcast from the post shop line

it's all gone wrong.
once, just once,
i'd like to give them a piece of my mind.
really raise hell,
born from their shoulder pads,
and set forth my howl
such to farewell their lapels.
it's just not on.
every time I visit,
(it drives me mad)
every time I visit,
they've changed something.
oh no. there will be
no sense of reserved compliance
or any naysaying in the bays,
from pew to pulpit.
the gall!
"due to circumstances beyond our control,
(good morning mr president)
stamps are now 50 cents."
this'll show 'em.
next time,
I'm bringing a letter.

Touchdown

This was some of my thoughts laid out.