Forward My Mail

Still, things come from you To me, opportunities to vote, or maybe add my name to the "Wall of Tolerance" (The ability) in between Sandy Cheeks & Robert Black - - Water. Things on self publishing, and workshops upon mountain tops. Postcards, and your tiny smile. Straight dark-hair, pale-skin, Sagittarius, and all the patience in the world. But I am of many shoes; a pair at a time A man of rhyme, and mesa. Nomadic, drunk on celebration, and observance Completely alone in a stadium of cheers Acknowledgments, and one night stands Hotel soap, and contraband. An old white van with a license plate to everywhere, but where I want to be. And every once in awhile When I'm down on style. And staring at my pile Of letters in denial I recognize your ink, and think that it's lovely how you remember me and how I used to be Even when by all honest(y) accounts, you don't have to, but you do, forward my mail, Michelle... And as the dark star rolls over me rolling off of things I'd rather not say? I know you know that in this life you'll always have the memories, and replay.