Everything in it's right place

Hush and rain ground upon the pavement if memory fails and ties cease to bind Wide eyed navigators who know the words and roads gaze out through the trees upon the road Around a turn cresting out of cloud the moon bore down and skies sheath'd their tears From the passenger seat the radio researched With static and whispers perhaps the scarecrow speaks

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Evaporated

To elaborate on a theme, I know what's down most of the roads and I'm too old for mystery in a change of scene. I could lie and say the old emotions still straggle round the driveways and hedgeways while im unravelling the connections im unlearning; yet randomly sought. I could pull the pins out of the boards and loose the butterflies, since lately i'm wondering what i caught. It's long and cotton down perhaps with time it will drown.

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Rastan or Retirement

Sometimes when im at work i just want to get out and go to the mall or something. Be one of those people that people wonder about on long lunchtime Tuesday afternoons. Go to golfland with a few quarters and hide out. Camp infront of Choplifter til im good or the laundry money has all been spent. Thats a lie actually i have my own washer; I have even fixed it a few times. I guess thats the problem I have a washer and I'm doing home repair. Forget grey hair its when you start patching dry wall. Somewhere a long the way i got to much work to be young and too responsible not to care.

Over

With a wish its moving closer to free. Riding away from words of prophecy and leaving for desolace and me. Here high plains are slivered with sky then tear and sleep upon grasslands leading home. Steps break with serpent holes thrown headlong and held fast. Then thin Light washes the parking lot on days grown later than they seem.


Really this doesn't feel complete so maybe there is more
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