after two am, between ventura and lost angeles
sometimes I think I have forgotten
how to string these words together
but the spirit still lingers
along with the stories I never tell
and the 100 million people
I used to be
what do you say
to a green maraschino cherry?
and a dare and long stretches of 101 appearing
tonight only
as memory lane
the playbill lies & this limited engagement
keeps running in my head
i lost that version of me about 542
incarnations ago
and on the list of things that matter
this nostalgia can’t even squeeze a mention
yet I am here typing
thinking about what it might be worth
and how many things I’ve done and all the quantum probabilities
the possibilities and the predictions that can be made
and the should on the other side of that is sleeping
or other, more responsible courses
than early morning obsessions
bringing me back to another time and place.
that lifetime
and all the things it could not possibly have meant
