Sepia Afternoon

little box,
one of many.
pick me pick me it seems to say
with its bright yellow wrapping and green bows

little box,
took it home.
present for whoever finds it
left it under the christmas tree - fake and gaudy

little box,
nobody found you.
changed color dust and grime
now who will want you ugly box

little box,
put it away.
under the shelf where it fits
unobtrusive spent life, under surveillance and duties

always introduced last, if someone notices
under- medication- schizo box.

What is it you said?

How do I show you
the shade of blue in the fields
when the giant-wheel makes its
death sounds will you listen?

My mind's made up, or half -made
egg that it is.
I'll be out here amidst the yellow birds
but will you call me when its not urgent?

To think that this is the beginning
and everyones happy because
they have new things this evening
will you laugh even when you've heard these lines before?

REM

I see today with a newsprint fray
My night is colored headache grey
Don't wake me with so much.
Daysleeper.

I woke up with a letter. and an accusation. I woke up with the doorbell serving lunch, guilt and ache...the songs are all mixed up. they make sense that way. honeybee gives me a high. jazz is alright. nostalgic speeches, and i see you're yawning and wish that i would stop...so i do...and next thing i know you're fast asleep...

Sunday

Your sunday starts here...

City

I live in a city. of madness and magic. Its always crowded, they say it even has a "spirit"...but this crowd is made up of strangers. people who go about the business of living alone. they say its a city of dreams...my dreams are bizarre. i don't know about the rest. because we're all strangers. we hardly ever speak. is it possible that people on the trains are pushing and shoving each other only because they want some human contact?