Home Ec.

Still trippin’ after all these years.

Still seeing the way I did years ago.

Turns out I was right, 

not that I survived.

Survival wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.

Although the chimes of freedom are still flashing,

and I’m still floating eight miles high on wax wings.

We all know what happens next, but let’s not

get ahead of ourselves this moment of clarity and peace.

If you want to predict the future, look at the present.

Everything is happening somewhere at this moment.

That’s a dead horse that doesn’t need beating…

but the beat goes on…

and the spacemen are everywhere free in mind.

I don’t mind the fly in my soup.

Everything everywhere all the time,

and so you want to be a rock and roll star.

Might as well could have been.

Too late always comes up.

It’s only good to cry if you don’t have

enough duct tape.

I was so much older then,

I’m something something now.

Remolecularizing….hold…hold…

waiting for the electrician…

might as well could call it God.

Would be handy to have Him

around the house…He’s there

because He’s everywhere, now,

if He’d just fix the disposal.

Any place is good…it’s the timing

that is everything.

If I’m doomed, that’s bad timing.

If a miracle occurs, that’s quantum 

timing, auspicious coincidence,

ripening of karma, cause and effect.

I’m looking at you ‘cause you affect me.

These are words not really happening,

but I remember 

the looks I gave and got 

and what happened next,

many times for brief moments,

until now, bouquets wilted, kisses

only impressions, forgotten sensations,

and so it goes.