Wise up, or take it on the hoof my friend. You see, when a car backfires on a city street, an Angel farts way the hell on the other side of the universe. Some call the beyond place Heaven. Others dig it as Nirvana. Some lightmakers feature it as Source of All. No one really knows. Our gray matter holds lots of stories – made up equally from truth, lies, fairy tales, common wisdom, flashes of brilliance, etc. The time is now, as its always been, time being the most valuable commodity. If you get my point. Over here, this alleyway leads to a place called Dreamsville. A destination worth heading for, and for some lucky ducks arriving at. Your choice. Flip a coin. Change your luck. Picture this: waking up in another city on a different day than today. Imagine the day you’d been in got up and just strolled away. Let’s say you awaken in a retro-cool hotel room off to the side of Times Square. Looking at the neon-patterned curtains, you try and remember what you did the night before, as you stare into the TV with a screen tuned to snow. A car horn honks 22 flights below, playing one note in an impromptu song. When you’re hip to it, you can see your past lives in snapshots and smoke rings, and the future is just around the next bend in your ever-expanding life and times. Inside the first elevator going down, in walks someone you once met in a dream, and you say, “Are you my Guardian Angel?”
I’m putting together an eBook of my Internet Poems, Prose Poems, and Noir Prose Poems, among others types of poems. More info as this project progresses.
Thanks for digging what I do.