Mind the gap

We too were once young and hopeful

Certain of each new year’s promise

of new epics everlasting

Until monotony overtakes

that liberating embrace of mortality

Disappointment of empty inheritance

we give to cushion your fall

with diminished expectations

Because nothing is really epic

Because today we are here

and tomorrow gone

Character actor

Apps and ads are comingled

ruthlessly intertwined with

their shameless marketing managers

Eloping with Wall Street

because every whore knows

that anything is for sale

Yet who names the price?

Analog man stumbles

through this landscape surreal

Battling against odds improbable

and chafing at the idiocy

of self driving cars and amateur dentistry

All those things you’ll remember

that someone once said

It seemed like a good idea at the time

Those famous last words

of some character actor

whose name you can’t remember

Lost in the credits of films

equally forgotten


Too big

The megafrequency drones

Sonic tapestry conducts the hive

They believe only the truths they are told

Incurious and distracted

No proofs required

The chosen have ordained

You, the unwitting tools

support their construct

they hand you shovels, now dig

Every sentient being stamped

marked in DNA

To be humbled by the universe

it’s enormity so shaming

All life spent in proving

that we’re bigger than we are

Convinced that we’re too big to fail

Our true failing is this belief

No torch to pass

December’s dawn begins in midnight chill

as we stare in abject horror

at November’s spawn

Left writhing in the road

pathetic rearview spectacle

Terror turned luckless pedestrian

yet heartless we drive on

The new day dawns cold

the grey of all we have left

Our anthems echo in the emptiness

They declare frightened confessions

of liberation at sixteen

The uncertain nature of freedom

such risk can not be allowed

Driven to Disney’s plastic cocoon

attached to that warm bosom

and condemned

to a diet of sour milk

Drunk on this poison

Convinced of your mission

To save a rock in space

that doesn’t care if you’re here

Your tower of Babel awaits

the shrine of another

Utopia in ruins


Holiday travel

Rain specked glass

Airport terminal window



impending dread

Chorus of monitors drone

echo through the concourse

.holiday travel will be heavy this year….

Countdown to boarding

and the sick ether

of grey damp and jet fuel

and the glimmering hope

this bird never lands

Waiting for the feast

November fires burn

their sweet smoke ascends

to the setting grey blanket

Hearthstones glow orange in shadow

as winds tap the window

They are voices of old

A train whistle calls

joins the chorus

They wish to escape the damp

to the place of their birth

We still hear them

their plaintive cries forever trapped

on wrong side of the glass

FM memories

Fevered dreams

divide by zero

Soundtracks past midnight

when the airwaves were free

Now perfected, digitized replicas

Memories held hostage

to satellite subscription

Backbeats and feedback

from the time we believed

we could make a difference