Tuscon, Arizona; California grass

A slack-faced apparition of pointless revelry
deflated. A bilious premonition of cross-eyed,
callow ambition. Torn up scraps from one of her paintings,
a raped and sullen Pleiades littering my tattered carpet.

Were all lines
I could have used
back in the day.
Were lines I did indeed use,

I did indeed,
I did indeed

*****

I feel a blessing here. Funny, I've been gone for years. But I'm turning on the radio and they're playing songs I used to know. So I'm happy all the way home. Thinking about the past. Yeah, I'm happy all the way home. Turning out my blues. I feel monotony. While the guy I used to be, he'd be drinking at the open feast, I've got my head bowed for the least of my brothers all the way home, thinking about my past. Yeah, I'm scrabbling all the way home, churning up my blues... The Lord carries all our hearts; we're created on the road. As for the burden on my back, I gladly bear the load