It's 2 o'clock in the morning now.
I'm on a late night drive to the Acme pit mines.
With muddy thoughts in a midnight mind,
a mound of gravel in my guts,
I'm churning up
                  The last 4 years
and knocking back a cocktail
                   of wins and losses.
Wyoming night in the early Autumn.
Do you wanna come for a drive?

Take me back to that Winter night
when we walked outside
and filled cold air with our voices.
We set the icy, empty streets to rights,
and just talked all night
until our frozen throats thawed out.

3:10 a.m. It's still warm outside.
The gravel speaks, with each step, under my feet.
Tally up the feet and miles I've gone,
the feet and miles we have lived.
A memory walk
                  is vignette stops:
Those nights we spent drinking wine
                  on your rooftop.
Wyoming night in the heat of Summer.
Do you wanna come for a drive?

Thinking back on that April night
when we stayed inside
and hid from rain in the Springtime.
We let our favorite records spin all night
while it soaked outside
until the red wine sky dried out.

An empty ghost town. 3:45.
Imprints of gravel on my legs are a star map
I'll follow back to the times we had
through mounting years and empty space.
A distant place
                 I'm dredging up.
The one laid down; woven thick
                 in our fibers.
The map is laid out but I know my way.
So do you wanna come for a drive?

Swallow your glass whole
Nothing will
Burning through your open closed
Swing, miss, swing

There’s an empty grave beneath the park
Where smiling children sing hymns to a silent dark

Who was suffocating
Once here, or nowhere?
Yellow toothed maniac
Down, dead, dying

I’ve worn my neck right through
Thinking of you

I love that you dream out loud
You say things that make everyone laugh at your far fetched fantasies
Yet in conviction you voice your thoughts as though they are in the mailbox coming into reality
I love that you dream and imagine things happening that are not really realistic
I love that you dream them anyway and believe that they'll happen someday

Type this,
Double tap that,
Tweet this,
Post that,
Like this,
Like that,
Face Time here,
Face Time there,
Search for this,
Search for that,
Constantly searching on your iPad,
Too engrossed to even look at
Things that are in front if us,
Typing away on our keyboards,
Getting things we can't afford,
Insert slang here
Insert slang there,
Cuss word here,
Gonna tap that there,
So many words we dispronounce,
Walking in and out
Of doors and places,
Gotta go,
In a rush,
Typing away here and there
Up and down,
What has happened to this crazy town,
Society.

HOURS when I love you, are like tranquil pools,
The liquid jewels of the forest, where
The hunted runner dips his hand, and cools
His fevered ankles, and the ferny air
Comes blowing softly on his heaving breast,
Hinting the sacred mystery of rest.