I always have help from zombie cowboys and surprise guests

[saw]

again we meet mon amie, though i have never seen your face
we gather in the foogy steam rooms of fantasia, in the wet mirrors
that cannot reflect, we share a basket of acorns that we know will become
towering words that sway in the wind but never break, we bounce creations
off molecules of water, and i am thankful for your company, together we ink
reflections that will never evaporate or dry up dusty on the tongue, you and I
are long on the trail, long in the tooth, our sentences might stagger a little
but appear like the ghosts of Grey and McMurtry, like Albee and me walking
hand in hand, long lost cousins, and I will write it all down in my note pad,
a pile of words just like this here that beg to be released one day when
you come again to whisper in my ear, "It's Time " and I will post them
on Studio Eight, and take all the credit