sunlight demands action. all the energy it takes to close these bedroom blinds.

wrote this selfish sadness on a b

Om wall, spent half the span of some lost culture's rise and fall, but i'm as

clueless as a drooling four year old. still hoping i might find the capacity to let

you know i know you're lonely. s

E's the last call for regrets, a final slow dance through the days that we all hold

on to. here's the promises i've made, tied too tight to undo. an unwrapped gift from

me to you. all the slight

Sane on the 18 north main, reaching for a small-town downtown, night rain, nothing i

could say could be worth saying anyway today. like "hey, whatever happened to

what's that guys' name?&qu

We get a little older and it looks the same: askance. excuse my failing sense of

humour. here's the promises i've made; a razor blade and this broken piece of chain.

a history left to rust out i

Rain.