The last thought that you think today 

Has already happened 

The link between profound and pain 

Covers you like sherwin williams 


The smokey joe is broken 

Drops into your lap 

And the big red wasp 

Makes a scan through 

My black pages 


Last night our boy was out there 

Burning up his matches 

I saw him in the afternoon 

Sporting a black eye 


The universal man 

Holds a pistol or a bottle 

Types with confidence 

As we grow out of our 

Bruises 


Once i had a friend 

Who had the knack of tossing 

His mind around geography 

Boy you think, you have problems 


The hunter is asleep 

At least that's what i call him 

In the afternoon 

Of the new cobweb 

Summer