Oxygen
Scarcely reprimanded, even then, yes, innocent, humiliation’s seething lashes, by ever-loving parents, though some I admit
The Crossing
Which coastline will catch that lighthouse beam? Where is the shore to make a landing on
Doubled and Troubled
This isn’t a drinking song nor a song about drinking but a song written while drinking,
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Four Miles Past
Out of town, four miles past– two mallardssing a rippled trance. Greenhead Drakescoots among cattailed reeds,
Where The Song Should Be
A seacliff. Dark. Haunted even. But what’s that perched atop? A form. White, not white like
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