Friday, September 08, 2006

coulda shoulda woulda

Could’ve been a legend in my day
Perhaps a mysterious magician
disappearing year after year

Cock-eyed and crooked-eared
barely able to hear the screaming

A standing still passer-by
hollers out “What’s the time?”

Got no watch
Just a faint reminder
captured by a fading tan line

Two-thirty in the a.m.
could be overheard

The time that splits the skull
if one is unable to make
last call

Absolutely no worries or cares
For I have one last
bottle to share

Sulfuric acid-rain rushed down
on my promising future
and left me faceless in the past
while stupid and naked in the present


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