Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

one day there will be nothing left to say here
and I will sit at this table and rue for a second
the loss of a mind that tried to say something
in an often unforgiving world of dogs that prefer
to eat other dogs

I'll reflect on the sacrifices a little bit and grin
at the images of all the nights I can still recall
sitting alone with the ganja and dark anejo, and a cheap
ballpoint pen, there wil be no need to shed tears
for a man that has eaten the worm

tonight i write with gratitude, the river is falling
over the dam of my years, the whitewater crashing
on to the rocks of time, as I navigate it all like
a seasoned tar, between the blue lines and the lilting
of Lorelie, with aplomb and a swift paddle

I'll steer that cosmic raft toward the gentle ponds
filled with fallen warm rain, I'll jam with the boys
and I'll dance with the go go girls in white vinyl
mini skirts as I sing strange songs not of this earth....
Yes...yes I will...one day.....but not just yet