Who Else 

I walk and and walk with my jail cell of a mind never escaping always turning to dead end roads then a u turn to kick up the dust in my white Chevy Dream
O holy holy is the American night where I have a companion that I consider brotherhood 
Speaking passionately about visions and aspirations and coagulations
Calculating every turn that has gotten us to this purple moonlight of abandonment. 
We kick up our feet on the dashboard which holds our priceless possessions of beer and chewing gum  
We talk about woman, Manhattan, and teeth
What it means to be a fly on the lamp of despair and how it feels to be the hummingbird sucking the nectar of a ripe daisy 
Bare chested and naked minds we roam the dark blanket of the night to see what we can offer it 



Youth 

I look into the corridor of my youth
We turned the summer months into dreams
At last the harvest has been grown
We had our baskets piled high with its fruits
The aching sobs of elder minds fell flat on our ears
Until we were alone
That is why we were never alone
We played our youthful songs into the sky
Musicians with broken instruments
Kneading loaves of love into every soft bread
The fusion of wonder and carelessness that caused our eyes to sparkle
Now, bereaving, of a world we no longer are apart



The Ancient Streets

Let us take a walk down the ancient streets
The crowded streets where the blue mist sprinkles on the faces of ghostly citizens
Let's have coffee at a restless diner where old men wear caps and talk about wars that have passed 
Let us jump from block to the other with our light sparrows feet
Passing by the echoes of laughter that fills the halls of brick layered pubs
The sound of a golden trumpet begins to play from a holy window
and we begin to dance
The tree's and the wind dance together with us like bride and groom
The moonlight shining and we wear it like a halos
God's forgotten angels
The soft fog rubs its face upon the window panes to join the evening and the wind allows it
Gentle raindrops of red wine begin to settle into our body as we continue our walk
Walter yells from his corner home "you haven't visited me enough, I don't beg or bite" I comfort him with an embrace 
The Hudson looks like the Pacific,
Water flowing in every direction like the thoughts in my puzzle of a mind
No pieces seem to fit
A mind that can take in everything but can't seem to give anything
Besides this
A poem
For those who are searching