It's the rat race
You want to blame,
Or then again
Maybe it's just your given name;
...
A sign I found
at the edge of a desolate desert road, which read:
'Don't Bother Reading This.
Nothing More Can Be Said.'
...
small in stature
yet long in sweet prose;
barely peering above unkempt weeds
beauty becomes its silent words, speaking
...
I've got this old cowboy hat
It's my favorite one to wear,
It's about the only thing I own
That I'm not willing to share;
...
Thinkin bout puttin down
a few words,
meant for no one certain to be heard.
Thoughts on paper
...
cut the grass
mow, mow -
stop natures advance
mow, mow -
...
I would've
if I could've
and should've,
but I didn't
...
An old poet riding his horse at midnight
fell to the ground
when the horses leg broke badly
in a gophers hole.
...
Sitting on all his years
like a hard wooden chair,
looking, motionless into the dense
woods of forgotten memories,
...
Out here alone,
I, under the sun's burden, burn.
The mountains, so far flung,
barely in view, like a mirage,
...