A Sharp Ton of Bricks

It’s three in the mornin’

I don’t feel like sleepin’;

Uncanny how often that’s happenin’

These spring-beginnin’ days?

A sharp ton of bricks,

Terror metal cannons

And arm-wrestle threats

Smother the routes

To freedom

But I’m sleepin’ with the

Sweet, never-wrong money, Continue reading

The Violet Distance

In the violet distance

Sand eats the sun again;

Soon cold-rock peace

Will settle horizon’s disputes.

Bad-company hero

Told me (years ago)

The sky is burnin’.

I believe – in this

Desert land of faiths –

I begin to understand.

A little bit of desolation

Is desirable on

Access Action Strasse … and

Some minutes with angels

Will weave silk

For the soul.