Here we are again, just you and me my friend.
Nothing like glass to warp the shape you’re in. Everything’s the same (every Ra damn thang is the same) when you gauge it day-to-day.
Days on end (day after day) don’t date her man.
Dates her so, though. (sMascara can’t hide the old.
Inadequate? Neh, yeah, man, just another John or Jane or Dick flipping the right switch, at least so how they say.
As one hand slows, another picks up the pace
Fuck the race
Speeding up and slowing down
Just because it’s a carousel (careless soul)
doesn’t mean you can’t know it so, doesn’t mean you can get off
I wish I was STUCK!
I wish I was sane, man.
I wish I was mad though; more so a loon who blows up park balloons and croons on weekday afternoon That I wish I could see, sir, in kaleidoscopic blue and greens (in a sea foam green); or at least know what they mean, man, when they say, man, "he’s gone a lifeless pale shade away from being too tan beige it seems to me, man."
I wish I could remain unchained, framed and hung on “Hey Sara,” que sera strings strung from up above.
Dare I say I wish I was dead, sir. No, no, no, I wish I was alive.
I am, but who would know, sir?
Times ticks so slow, sir, but passes fast whether or not you’ve given up on going up or going down or speeding up or slowing down.
Speeding up and slowing down
Just because it’s a carousel doesn’t mean you can’t know it so, doesn’t mean can get off.
Why not?
Every now and then stop the spin take to the wind (on a whim).
Slip into sleep here and now and dream of what could have been.
What could have been of her and him?
What follies would unfold?
What stories would be told?
But what I am is only what has always been: a tire fix to pay the rent, point out faults and dream a daydream to no end...
There is no end. There is no end… only day breaks in a daydream every once and again...only day breaks and napkin dreams dreamt every once and again while Peggy, Peter or Paul down the halls not looking as, as you fall asleep.
C Change is a jug band of microphone controllin' poets, painters, string pickers and bowers, and winds blowing something
new.
Chelsea is changing. See Change. Sea Change. C Change.
Come see Charlie Ozburn and friends under one tent...!...more
Our dear friend, Richard Aufrichtig, Brooklyn's Pied Piper of Hamelin speaks in Tom Waits weathered truths (leaving the hocus pocus nonsense behind). Ta-Da! C Change
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