Miscellaneous Verse

When I say go on
you say well hold on
but then the fast beat's gone
and we're all left tripping.

The sky's getting darker
like some kid with a marker--
on the curb sitting safer
paints the air by whipping.

Say, how many cars pass by
as the drivers die and die,
here to there and at jobs, asking why,
I thought I must be slipping.

I was right and the deal's in,
the world's crumpled up in a trash bin,
nothing for me but to sit and spin,
my bag's been lost in shipping.

But as I'm resting on the lawn
I'm feeling my edge get sharper,
so I lunge forward to let the edge lie,
in favorable dirt and untouched, so let it grin--
I'll be on top and on bottom, this coin's flipping.