Rear viewed

Time is short,

and getting shorter,

I know this

more and more

every day.

Middle age

is technically

behind me.

The path ahead

is shorter

than what came before…


Just shattered.

I am crawling forward

while looking over

my shoulder.

How can I embrace what’s left

if I can’t see it



Deep cuts

More on melancholy:

Listening to music,


that was seminal

in my twenties.

The words

echoed back through memory,

trying to reinforce

the mood of those times;

they failed.


and experience

have rendered me numb

to these prior aspects.

I’m not sure

that I can be reached,

not by music, anyway…


These albums I listened to

on loop

are all like old photos

of people I once knew:

I recall the moments,

But not why they mattered.

1991 marked

Twenty-five years
of talking to the void…
shouting in an empty room.
Blank sheets of paper,
or these newer mediums,
have been my only audience.
as you well know,
has changed somewhat
in the last few years….
But I am still
fairly isolated
and whispering my missives
to whomever may hear
and that,
of course,
is all I ever wanted
even if it fails
to satisfy.