Index

I'm surviving--still breathing
Out here I'm passing seasons
And I'm waiting--alarmed, though--
     for one or more good reasons.
Excuses
     Come easy
To me
     When the sun gets in my eyes,
And nerves start to shake
Make a getaway...

And just right on time
Back out and seeking space
          we're penalized.
Fall asleep
Punishment
     gets meted out
You'll close the book on Springtime.
The Autumn's set to publish.

Alcohol Umbrellas

Under alcohol umbrellas
We'll seek shelter from the snow
This street is icing over
Sliding sleet beneath our toes.

This place keeps getting colder,
They predicted our bad luck
But the globe is growing warmer
Choke me down, I'll get choked up.

It's like Wharton is your neighbor
And McCarthy shares her bed--
     We've got plenty Pretty Horses
     But no Room, here, for Old Men

Tickers spit out headlines
Half of us can't even read.
But the other half's no better,
     We're cannibals eating dreams.

So you'll keep your smoke and mirrors.
And, reflecting, stifle coughs.
Operate under assumptions:
Overrated's good enough.

But I'm taking bets, suggestions,
And donations, West to East.
So, from minor indiscretions,
     I might try to beg release.