6:25 PM Friday, June 29, 2012
Elvis is a lonely man
 his song floats humbly high
He sleeps among the fabled
 and lives where none can fly

He is a bleary vision
 an Elvis fit for all
his suicides and poisons
 portend our country's fall

.....

The loveliness of sadness is
 the grace with which it flows.
It fails to see the fantasy,
 it swiftly burns the rose.

Beneath its path of happy waste
 it plows a tiny land
where future searchers will recall
 the lessons of the damned.

.....

8:17 PM Sunday, July 29, 2012
I wonder if banality
  is trusted by the dead
Or if a long-solved mystery
  reads like a wound unbled.

I think that common artifice
  is held in fond regard
by lonely pirates of the ice
  that freeze our souls too hard.

.....

7:13 PM Wednesday, August 01, 2012
Last night I heard the sorry sound
  of twisted lullabies
as sung by singers of the grounds
  that swallow tired eyes.

The chorus rang like drums and bells
  that marked all time with song
as written by great ghosts of hell
  that traded rights for wrong.