gnawing on ring of bone

the words are dancing in my head

rhyming with what’s been left unsaid

feeling so weak i try not to speak

flowing like a babbling creek

 

anthologies of the poets

some poems, per author, bestow it

the countless poems my pen has met

i wonder which they would select

 

two or three to represent me

can’t dwell too long upon such things

i’m suppressing while expressing

all the while second guessing

 

afraid to feel, don’t know what’s real

afraid what’s real is what i feel

living with too many regrets

haven’t leaned yet how to forget

 

sad songs serenade with a belch

i’m on the verge of being lew welch

i understand his 30-30

disappearing down and dirty

 

my sad, sweet lew what can we do

when we are not the chosen few

i’ve walked the dark streets of decay

but find lately i’d rather say

 

anything that will ease my mind

distance from decomposing rinds

i was so sure among the fray

that was the dark streets of decay

 

now i’m folding, filled with creases

too crumbled to pick up the pieces

my sad, sweet lew, oh, where are you

why were your words so misconstrued

 

lumped together with living legends

you were lost even in heaven

you weren’t after all their gold

you just sought solace from the cold

but couldn’t find your peace of mind

until you left it all behind

 

***