Vertical slabs of concrete
Elevate toward the heavens.
Hidden, shallow grey lives
Find refuge in long, vacant shadows.
A thief stole my guts, grit and fire.
Robbed me of the clenched fists
And vigor that fought through every
Day of my tough and volatile youth.
Pardon me and my mound of soil
Heaped upon this lush-green lawn.
Where, between my leisure and toil,
I was comfortably buried today, at dawn.
She enjoyed performing in intimate spaces,
Listening to poetic music and instrumentals
That mimicked the restless, thrusting wind
And the tumultuous thundering rainstorms.
Driving west, through
Nebraska, off in the
Distance I saw a shooting
Star sailing north. Its bright
Washing a tomato,
Early Sunday morning,
I discovered that
What I thought was
My buddy Mike and I sat on a bus bench.
Bored, throwing our knives at the dirt,
Smoking and finally simmering-down from
We'd wrap a dollar bill, provided
By a challenger, tightly around
Our wrist. Then, taking the lit
Burning end of a cigarette, the
With only the
Walls and the
Humming of the