clark kent

i write this because i can

i revel in possibility

my rolls royce mind not quite running on all barrels

boy tho i have been lucky

i stop to consider the others who fell by the west wayside

dont think ive forgotten their glories and obscurities

i myself stumbled thru it all and accidentally got this far

no hero no villain

in my own head at a concert

or by the side of the blackest nordic lake

i still stop to consider all those disappeared into time

the past swallows the dead

the living surf the present

the future holds the unborn

why do we die ?

why does love die ?

oh everything dies childe even these great cities

so change into something strange

a night template

a visit from your lover

my limbs feel carved from some unknown metal

i am pulled along as if by magnetism

i will prevail mildly like a faded head shot

when life goes wrong it may happen suddenly

the things you say now will seem so faraway

as you flash to the whitest light

one drink one pill one swerve one fall

and even as we plummet each pseudo-abyss

we hold in our heads hearts an image of a god or goddess

apollo the christ

aphrodite the virgin

zeus-amon god of hosts

athene the mother of god

no yonder temple can ascertain the truth

the world whirls love and beauty

hatred and ugliness as necessary shadows

revere the ancient jazz

the rest is mist before a great wind