The Many Decline

On deck or overboard it gets dark early this time of year

Develop, develop, develop, develop

The wasteful won’t inherit jack in this gothic romance

And a silhouette and a promontory and weather.

Retire to the fire and think about a better future

Like train travel and a green economy

We can share.

Forever-ever

Like so many things before me, take this bread, December 12th

Forgetting today, forging next generation alloys, and nothing ever done but with allies 

Like various symmetries or a wheel spinning or all the piece lining up on the metaphorical board

Like cake, like cookies, like the last days of your last years

Two houses jammed together to make a bigger house

As porch is to galley is to deck is to roof deck

So back is to back is to back is to back

Like a truck or a train, but so very far in the future

But I’ve gotta say, I know your friends. I’ve met your friends. I’m cool with your friends.

I still have so many pets and so many snacks and a roof over my head.

I don’t know where we’re taking this thing we call life.

Let’s keep breathing though, and let’s keep our eyes to the sky.

In Baltimore there’s a radio picking up a faint signal

Signaling which why is gonna matter most this year.

Just Keep On Digging

It Comes Before the Question

Is there really a finest goldsmith in any age?

We find ourselves smack in the middle of the Season of the Word of the Year and so many of its brethren,

And while we’re ok on split wood for a while, there’s not enough to last the Winter.

Tomorrow I’ll be back to work.

Meanwhile you’re focused on stretches and taking care of things.

You’re love of architecture is infectious,

And you have so many things to share.

These are the last moments we’ll spend together and we both know it.

Once upon a time all gulfs were uncrossable.

Nobody had a taste for looking back and the plants just kept on growing.

Someone invented the word ford and someone else made great boats and some other someone still was good at bridges.

This is the time that just keeps going.

When I hold up my hand, how many fingers do you see?

Write it down and remember me.

Oh What (Interrupted Sonnet)

Early December in the midst of borrowed conventions

Some would say focus, others would motion to an equidistance 

Forget everything you