the cold winter rains came
the flowers wilted and died
on dirty floors in cheap flops
lit only by candles
handy for melting poison into liquid
“hey, brother, can you spare a dime bag?”
feeling good wasn’t enough anymore
mash that pedal to the floor
speed into the twilight zone
where anything is possible
isn’t it?
free love
free life
free children
named Mystik
or Cheyenne
or, … you know
something cool
another generation
and things aren’t working out so well
the world has shrunk
there are bills to pay
mouths to feed
something went wrong
not our fault
it is them
they have taken our dreams
painted over the beautiful colors
with things we don’t understand
stop confusing me with reality
whose side are you on?
like the muddle-headed saints of yore
they rage
their many vectored selves
moved hither and yon
by forces they don’t understand
The Ace Hotel Notebook 