Just seated
On the ceiling
To better view
The coming sky
The bolstered bulkhead.

Denounced and unending
Divorced and trembling
Calm and soothing
The lie of autumn
Hinting of a warm breeze
In bitter cool air
In dark of night.



I needed to get my head open
Before I fall to sleep
And dream something

I don’t want to dream
And dream something loathsome
I don’t want to fall asleep

Only to wake up
Still wanting to dream
Because I spent the night

in a psychic
nightmare hotel

I don’t wanna do that
So I wrote something.

Flying car

I had the dream last night
Where we were flying

You flew your car
Through a blue sky
And lay on the floor looking out the windows

The clouds recoiled before us
We were too bright
Too beautiful

All that remained to us were smooth thoughts
And clear skies
It felt warm

To be high and flying near you again
Was its own reward
We watched the city unwind

For hours
Until the sun grew lazy
And Los Angeles drifted off to sleep

Sleeping on the Ceiling

So you see me
On the ceiling

That wasn’t why
You called today
You called about the-

Pink overcast
You were wondering,

Could it be fixed?
And it can
But it shall cost you

Cost each last cent
And then you have the gall
To ask,

Why are the matrons weeping?”
It is because they are alone young girl

It is because they are alone
And so too someday-
Shall be I- shall be you.