Midway Blues – January 7, 2016

Americana’s gone
I’m too old and time’s moved on
Where are the heroes now?

We’re all alone here at the age
when age becomes a thing to hide, a hidden rage
the dying of light that once shone high
inside our souls, now just a spark
that’s growing old

I dreamed a novel that I wrote
I published it and then I woke
to find it ripped up and divided
like a house of divorced minds
so undecided I revoked my sense of time

Is 40 years a mile or less
Do I still have a chance to dream
Or am I just a mess
everything I’ll ever be
And is it fine to just recline inside the world
I’ve made for me?

Or should I rise and leave the couch
Let a spark open my mouth
and say my piece, no chance for grief
about the things I’ll leave for dead
old lives turned past like pages read

My teeth are sore and now my head
I’m tired and I’ll go to bed
Half done or more it’s still unsaid
but I dream I’m not done yet

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *