Walking cross the bayou thinking of old blues.. man was talking like I think.. tape around his shoes.. spoke words that glistened as his breath fogged on the air.. bout running from his feelings.. look for painless care.. said
‘I stand a stoner.. sunshine for my rain.. warm place feelings.. that knifed me brought me pain.. Old spoon here is silver.. had since a tyke.. scout case for wood matches.. in down tube of my bike..
Forgetful folks impatient.. look back to the fog.. created just to fool them.. in a social hollow log.. they say ‘robber tell me’.. how was it that I failed.. was it bad business?.. or should lenders all be jailed?..
My woman stole the Ford.. grandpa handed down.. gave it to young Sancho.. a suicidal clown.. died of booze and boredom.. could not stand himself.. now she calls it his car.. memories on a shelf..
Found my wife on ‘Natures St.’.. off ‘Love Avenue’.. I play blues eight this evening.. until just about two.. we sing blues from deep gut time.. share love in time with you..
Down where hearts bleed tears.. harp wails pride and pain of woe.. strings dance wrap sweet notes bout the time..
Your lover had to go..
Thought.. ‘it is most interesting and useful.. still.. I do not believe physical measurement will ever define infinity.. my reasoning is an obvious lack of measurement in basic definition.. such measures may be used to find a way back to point ‘A’.. after proceeding into the unknown..
I believe any confusion in this human world will be answered out of the mouth.. from the brain of a human..
I believe when we find the thread that takes us to concept and understanding of infinity it will be random and fast..