when floating became too much

[iknowmaygun]

and i won't return

'til she's feeding me the fruits

by their stem

'til i dine on mutton

and wash it all down

by the barrel.

that's the last passage heard

in his tone

by any ear

for eternity

well,

at least in their lifetime.

(entrance stage left)

shocked to see the streetlight lynchings

he tells himself he's walked onto the wrong set again.

if he missed the train due to a lack of fuel

he would be stuck here

and after a week was already missing conversation.

he begged anyone for a cot and some company.

at least he still had the barren two dollar thieves

for their weekly sharing hour.

their language may have been a bit more primitive

but for now it would do.

so it goes, he missed the train.

he missed his last chance out.

at least he still had the spectators

to give him a good laugh,

or excuse me,

the good laugh he presented himself with

while he droaned on in one sided

political discussions and of that

one memory left

that he already

wasted on the weekly sharing hour.

hazel eyes, lips that would whisper

sweet insults bout everyone in the room

giggles that were theirs.

a resonating stare of disgust coming from

the rest of the company.

a personality that matched,

a will that always wanted something more

a love that couldn't perform.

"my elbows are more important than you

and there ain't enough room for all of us."

that's the last passage he heard

in her tone

for eternity

well,

at least in his lifetime.