Published in a hotel laundry room, in true Jackson Browne-esque, rockstar fashion.
I hear it in my daily tasks
The man who wants to be heard
The slogans, pitches, brands, new logos,
Get in while the getting is good.
The overextension of America,
Pay twice for once the amount of work.
When all it really is is fluff
The double use of words and stuff.
Get in while the getting is good.
When all the stagnant
Said their oohs and aahs
Jeff Buckley saluted a Hallelujah.
Sent him to the end of his run.
But if you love the love you give
The ups and downs will always outlive
The hot flashes of frustration
That come with the job
Those which make you want to sob
But pull you back in for more like a claw
That damned, darned, family, your greatest flaw.
I think back to when I was shorter.
Life was simpler, full of chortles.
Time moved like taffy—flexible and limber.
Backflips of contentment, gold saucy embers.
Brave and true we are most times.
We boast our bruises and practice our lines.
Get in while the getting is good.
Someone once told me
Life was too short
I refused to believe them
I gave it a snort
But one day
I took a look
A corner less traveled
The terrain mistook
And the reveal
Was rather brutal
But ultimately beautiful.
The choices were made
The outcome was mutual
Miles of hurt
As far as the eye can see.
Interlaced with appreciation and pride
Twists and turns abound ahead
Scoops of undivided attention wait to be dug up
Slivers of solitude hide in the shadows
Tufts of future remembrance linger at the nape of your neck
The last drink awaits
Your throat is dry but wide with yawns.
Your voice feels miles away
but close enough you never need to hear it again.
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