The Marriage of Sparrow and Snake

You wish to lift,
Bring me to the sun
So I may reflect.
Like Icarus we die,

Or else we fly.

Dully, heavy, I absorb.
I cannot shine,
I smother,
Over-cover.

All ends in a shiver.

I Am Not

Time measured unyielding,
Yet just one day.

I do not shrink away.

Bright light holds steady:
I and my words at the ready

(Snide or trite or heady.)

My gift of energy to others:
Brain-droppings flying fast,

and I outlast.

Dim consequence cannot be far,
For I am not a star.

Why I Write, Part x+24: I Am

I am half a poem:
Begun slowly,
Inevitable though unsure,
Rhyme unpure.

Unsure to begin,
The rest unknown,
Will I sink or get brighter?
I seem to crave for a writer.

Thin Sound

That song is too much.
Its thin sound stabs in places
The living can't touch.
Rhythm hypnotizes, commands
I cherish the mortal regret
For the one real thing
I should have done,
But it's too late.

Take your hands away.
You'll never understand.

Remember Your Nights

You're a decent guy to hang with,
So I mean no offense
When I say
I can't help but notice
The way
You never remember your nights the next day.

I always see you with your girl,
Sweet Mary Sue Griswold
With the face of an angel,
The figure of a model,
and the liver of a forty-five-year-old,
Drinking all your stomachs (and more than your minds) can hold.

I'm more than aware that it's fun to be bad,
But nevertheless it seems
That you ought to remember the fun that you had
When you get old and boring like me.