noel, no. 3

eddie done the slips, fell with the slides
rocking with the shiver, all blinded in his winter
white

gone, check it off, some list grown short
and slashed, wrack it slowly, pencil finally
finely

edge him into goodwill, dodgy wear-washed
cast-me's, as we laugh against the dollar rack
badly

and try to guess the potions, anxious oily lotions
cremes from overstock, warehoused somewhere by
walgreens

is my eddy, foiled again, skipping breaths once,
twice, cloudy in the afternoon, and he wonders if
he's kissed

alley hopping, hoody thugs slamming hip-hop
miming dead end arias, eying salty eddy under
dread

is our life, was and going to be, our life, over and
again, bouncing on the hedges, tiptoed to the ledges
down

tie it, down, and tightly tie it, for the run, for the
streetly frolicks, and if we lose, or throw it, blow
it

i'm wise, glowing in the disco ball, endless wise
me, making dance, shaking to the ghostey years
forever

the long but not drawn noel, no. 2

i'm gone long, drawn out like sheepdog running
just a lopsided and bluesy boy, maybe shouts
when the night gets long, do i

got still some hopscotch, do i, and make scratch
jenny, or she is suzy, surely a bit of laughing
lady, ready for her romp

sling this new day, quilty all of older stuffs
cause when she wears old jasmine oils
blinds me sure enough, do i

if you're thinking, lazy long and old man thoughts
you will be hankered there, sure for hours
grumpy and tapping feet

i got some flying in me, do i, and blow over
all that ocean, leap the slips of water, just to
blink sweet sally's way

prayerful fella, wink there to the sun's down
and we can heist your uncle's dimes, scoop
those heavy nickels to a tune

jabber fella, i'm long here by your aunty's chair
long for that warm and gentle chair, do i, where
it's dark and knows best

i feel the marvel, do i

mystery song, no. 3

dark talking fellas, do they make their whisper
corner standing fellas, slying and looking
ready to be a thief, and watch their brown eyes
turn blue

sing-song blues, humping and thumping
foot tapping stuff, just made for fools, for heart
hunting strangers making their time
out of time

jesse, come back from your travel, cause the
clouds are gone hard, thick with some heavy
wails

i find them fearsome, these jabber and stomping
men, snapping and cracking, riff-raffing down my
alleys

what is this life i lead, ordered like some sergeant's
bark, but it gives me no sleep, shoving fierce into the
night

lord, he watches and he listens, counts the quick
little whiskeys, as i brown my toes with the falling
sun

tell me quick, about this life, have i gone astray
have i done wrong, lord, and some times you love
me

cause i can see the end