wisdom fades morning tally rises becoming more

the more i age
the dumber i become
the freer i feel
the more i am

i cannot escape the thought
that sound
is a conduit to the past.

promoters reach out on the precipice of a dusty memory.

some thing jostles the cobwebs
some emotion bubbles up into a smile
some one remembers a place when the
grass was greener
smiles bigger
shoulders lighter.

if only we could live in daydreams.

reality looks more like old man knuckles gnarled from more work then pleasure.
in particular order.

today the heart is part hollow.
yesterday you would look out the sill.
swallow strange hills.
chance turned to dance.
smiles sent chills.

but amber sits embalmed in the past.
where you left it.
no scratch
no itch.

i am not what you are looking for.

contact is made.
self inflated.
contract negotiated.
sell your whole soul.
if not you then who.

convince them they are reviving a long lost vibrational period.
pyramid bygone.

set a date to charade.
four planes
three trains
two buses
to tame this ego.

it is wiser to witness me
as one would
a house
teetering
on the edge of an eroded cliff.

it will fall at some point.
all succumb to gravity.

forgone conclusion.
confusion unwound.

what song does it play
along the way.
give us a hint.

hear.

you would rather i jam myself into your tin.
your bin of notions and commotions.

but i will not even be present.
probably pressed play.
waiting for my email to send.
waiting for my day to end.

old age stage mage in a cage.

i was told
it is ok to dance
while the clock talks of midnight
while the illionaires scavenge the carcas clean
while they blind you with an artificial sheen
while a ceo puts a new bow on a kid-killing quadcopter
while we gaze navels
while bombed lungs burn
while babies die inside
while we sip chai
children sniped
because god made this bed
so give it a rest
let the unchosen die
put down the phone
grow a backbone
it is done
as it was written
as old
as time
because god flipped this dime
so let the forces rapidly dig their ditches
to bury the stitches
cut quantum deep
by worms in wigs
so then
the pigs in suits can sling mud singing win spinning sin
2.0
bang the same god damned tin while your head spins.

tired rhymes this book
that rook cooked.

the old sold us two choices
but everyone knows where the sun sets.

the seas see
the fires cease
in the end scene.

i was told
it is ok to feel joy.
but it sounds wrong.
song sung backwards.
gong unrung.

i do not hear for you.

i am here to remind you
yours is over the hill.
get it
fill it full.
on the sill.

who do you see.

4ms company pod 64x
bastlinstruments wave bard
clank modular chaos
cutlassesmusic gloop
dauntbooks - i saw ramallah - mourid barghouti
hirbawi kufiya
instruo modular pocket scion
kalafepalanga - whites can dance too
nano modules vcv random
new systems instruments harmonic shift oscillator
plinky synth bib
shakmat modular battering ram
wavy industries monkey
xodesnet cm6 drums