06-07 Acceptance.

Acceptance.
After the rush of mornings,
volcanic, spurted writing,
the banjo strummed,
while the last few notes of the day,
drifted between and from,
And I.
Acceptance.

06-06 Never Alone

Never alone.

Death holds my left hand,
while she holds the other-

Shadow brothers,
cradle me,
Wind cousin,
rock me gently,
into the stars.

Never alone.

06-5 Brave

I'm brave.

Or so I've been told.
... I'm not like you.
... I just can't.
... You just seem too.

I'm brave.

Because you want me to be.

You, world, you,
didn't ask,
just assumed,
I would be okay with this,
you demanded,
and so,

what's a guy to do?

I'm brave.
Yeah.
I can see how you'd think that.
But I can't look back,
and you can't,
because,
this silly blindfold you make me wear.

I remember who you are.
Everyday.
I remember,
and I fall all over again,
and I remember,
and I know.

That makes me Brave?

Silly blindfold-
can't you see,
the stars falling from my eyes?

Brave, pshaw.

Oh, sweetie. 

Brave.

6-4 Brunch

If I could gather them all up,
all my poppies,
and serve mimosas,
at 10:00 a.m,
what would we talk about?

Am I that self-centered,
to wonder who will fade first?

Who will bend to the wind?
and who
lastly,
sweetly,
will remind me euphorically-
a blue sky summer?

Drink up,
untie this ribbon,
leave my glass a quarter full.
save a few wedges of melon for dessert,

The lawn needs mowing today.

06-03 Nice Try

There are days when,
the world is cruel enough,
and tries-

to twist,
this crooked boy a straight tie,
but not today,
not today world.

Today,

I get to fly my crooked colors thigh-high,
arch my back and SCREAM,
with guilt-free pleasure,
"STRAIGHTEN THIS RAINBOW,
BEYAATCH",

today,
I get to fly,
today,

I celebrate,
what all you straight boys,
out there,
just don't get,
but want,

...and yeah I got it,
always will,

ain't nothing you can do about it,

-freedom.

6-02 Should Be

All my evenings,
should be this golden.

All my evenings,
should be,
this painted,

this-

watercolor shadow-way,
all my evenings-

should be.
golden.

06-01 Bought the Ticket

When the train stops by,
I'll hand the conductor her leash,
and get on, without my bags,
behind me the lamplight, will flicker,
and then go out,
I'll find a seat, by the window,
where I can watch the night grow blacker,
as I fade to an imprint of a shadow,
who will sit with me then?