Drive

Born     into a world of       convictions.
He drives to work          wearin' a Je-sus beard.
(Chants)  OM (ooooohhhhhmmmmmmmm)
clutchin' onto     his coffee.
Holdin'   deeply   on  to rit-u-ual.
 ooh he'll hold on. on. on.   
( onandonand on ooooh) 
Boxed in by   thoughts      on-ly of himself.
His mind    a mirror
producing only images
-representations of the real.
He drives       searching for meaning.
While the rest
hold out their hands
and sing
their convictions.
 how long he will run. run. run. ruh uhuhuh oooooooh
Despite       all this conditionin'
his words    are all lost in his head
He works     for someone else's profitin'
 HO-ooold on. on. on.
Born
into a world of convictions
Images explode
like halos       in the sun.
There is no justice in any cause
since everyone has already been bought

New Grass and Dogshit

This morning we took the dog out for a walk. The snow that had been on the ground for nearly a week is finally almost gone. There certainly seems to be a poem somewhere in the contrast of feeling between new snow and week old snow! There must have been a million new things to smell on the grass; tree branches, cones, and other woody things littered the field, and Odin was lost in it all. I couldn’t help but wonder what new things he was discovering, not just bugs, but perhaps microorganisms, worlds of bacteria. Perhaps things that had lived it’s whole life solely at the tips of trees, or perhaps took form in the clouds and rode the snow down from the atmosphere, all of which until now he never would’ve known. Even my comparatively stunted sense of smell was awakened to the swirls of fresh douglas-fir and cedar. After being covered for a week what a sight it was to see the green fields and trees again! and now freshly watered by the pristine snow/water the grass seemed so green and fresh, so I wrote:

old snow melts -new grass!

We continued down the hill into the neighborhood, talking and playing zombies. I had Odin on a tight leash, pretending that I had control. My son, Holden, was talking about what we were going to do when we got home and later tonight and for some reason we had stopped, this is when I looked down to the ground and saw old dog poo smeared over the sidewalk. I don’t know what I said, but it wasn’t exactly kid appropriate and later walking back up the hill my three y/o daughter would do a pretty damn good impression of me pointing out trash and blaming the lazy idiots! While we stood cursing and wiping down our shoes I thought of the anecdote:

while you’re thinking about tomorrow, you’re stepping in dogshit right now.