Happy got stronger than sad.
Worry’s just praying for bad.
We got back to being glad,
while it began to spark fires.

Honest is leaving no doubt.
Lying sees peaceful and shouts,
We stood under an age-old spout,
softly drifted into sunrise.

Imagining morning wake,
old mug, coffee, freshly baked.
She stretches all four, smiles, I sing glory.
The story went, it all got bent but realigned
the other side of the coastline.

I could imagine forever.

Sometimes a second’s a day.
Minutes, for instance, decades.
We don’t let time set our pace,
so it’s come to mean nothing.

Wonder is wild with dreams.
Visions bring lions and queens.
Nothing’s ever as it seems,
until it gets said out loud.

I could imagine forever.
Rippled wake, freshly ground mistakes,
puzzled, wine, ‘til we sail
for the other side of the coast line.
I could imagine forever.

Jesus stands in a pot on a shelf above
my right shoulder.
Backwards head in a robe, couple scrapes
but he’s not getting older.

He once rode in a van on a road next to
a maniac.
Big wide grin on a face facing north,
the idiot brainiac.

Jesus, man, don’t lose it.
Just gave you a dime.
You walk way out there and lose your shit,
I’m swimming all the time.

Walk back from the ocean.
Grab yourself some sleep.
We’ll go to town and talk about birds,
or we can get real deep.

Jesus looks at an H on a plate and recalls
an old birthday.
Winters spent in a globe, a thousand shakes,
years, before love had its way.

He’ll get glued, on a bench, when his next time comes.
How’s three sunsets?
Body by a frame, head on a spring.
Jesus, are you done yet?

Let’s let this show start rollin’.
Let’s let us find our way.
Let’s let us relax and take our time
remembering how to play.

Third letter of the alphabet,
first letter of a name.
Never thought too much of school,
became the target grade.

You see him in the distance yet?
You hear him in your calm?
You fall right through his fingertips,
then he lands in your palm.

He said, ‘you really wrecked me,
questioning
everything
from life to birds,
thoughts to words.
From what’s arranged
to time, to change.
I’m up, come and get me.’

First person there when it all blew up,
third person, bird’s-eye view.
Always took his time with life,
the patience to tie shoes.

You hear him in the memories?
You see him in your tears?
You fall into his chaptered book,
and he says. ‘glad you’re here.’

Said he’d take over a small town, bring his friends.
He sang, life, come and get me.
Said he’d take over a small town, knew no end.
He sang, love, come and get me.

I’m up. Come and wreck me.

Little roadrunner walkin’ down the street.
Little roadrunner stopped and talked to me.

He said, ‘my friend, I’ve had a long day.’
He said, ‘the end? I’m headed that way.’

Bird where you walkin’?
Bird do you not fly?
You keep crossing white lines like that
and you are gonna die.

Little roadrunner ridin’ next to me.
Little roadrunner drooled and caught some Zzzz’s.

I thought, ‘uh, friend? Just let that shit go.’
I thought, ‘the end? I don’t want to know.’

Bird, when you wakin’?
Bird, why do you lie?
You don’t get out of your cloud soon,
you’ll never touch the sky.

I’ll turn the dial down for a while.
I don’t know why you aren’t flying.
I knew I shouldn’t have stopped.

Windshield wiper wagging tail
leaves him laughing without fail.

Cheeseball chugging childish girl,
pilot’s pausing his whole world.

Paints with diamonds before bed.
Newspaper tail twitches by crooked eyes.
A step out the window
for a picture
worth a lifetime of words,
in black and white,
like a tail that wags at night.

Diamonds before bed.

Wheel-spun winter wishful mind
swirls back things they’d left behind.

Two-tire traveling trusted soul,
singing something she was told.

Coloring with diamonds before bed
to stir up the silence asleep in her head.

What if it’s a movie? What if that’s a fact?
What if I walk out to the set,
and don’t know how to act?

What if it’s a ballad? What if it’s a tune?
What if they came for a good time,
and aren’t into the blues?

Sensed an earthquake. Maybe I fell awake?
Lost and found throughout the ages.
Counted two sheep. Maybe I fell asleep?
Tossed and turned and dropped some pages.

An old man told me, eventually,
‘I don’t know what to do, man I can’t help you.’
So, I think I figured it out.
So, I guess I’m just wondering.

What if it’s a picture? What if that’s the claim?
What if I’m a fly on the wall,
and can’t get in the frame?

What if it’s unwritten? What if it’s not done?
What if we’re already there,
and we don’t know we’ve won?

Sunshine, laughs, and all they’d ever wanted.
Bare bones mansion,
could’ve sworn it was haunted.
It’s living.

Wrote a radio, dreamt of distance disappearing.
Bare bones mansion,
mirrored marvelous demons near me.
Our living.

Stars flicker down to a fire
outside under a deep, deep moon,
light up two worn faces,
squinting, joyful’s coming soon.

Big waves, flames, and all life’d ever longed for.
Bare bones mansion,
locked out, baker he’d hum songs for.
It’s dreaming.

Hearing highways call, chasing chances until knowing.
Bare bones mansion,
listening to silence growing.
Not dreaming.

These stars shine,
and these stars, they take their time.
Take some time to flicker.
Flicker with the fire, and head back up to the sky.
Talking to the night,
two walk into the night.