Thursday, October 22, 2009

Wednesday, October 14, 2009

/a song I didnont hear on a gathering winter evening in my studio

/a song I didnont hear on a gathering winter evening in my studio

Piles a million notes. This Life.
The first halife finishing nothing,
second will finish

The night gathers 'a
          sing-a-song
something like an unheard Beatles' melody
only John could write

         ne /er born, not for a second,
       the music nont writ after his shot
         --that song always makes me cry

The town people stop washing cars.
Winter gathers a liquid promise, some haunting
          sing-a-song
the stack must.