sobriety

when you have nothing
you have everything
only you find that out much later
love is a sandwich on the cutting board
or a hot coffee on cold concrete
slipped out his plastic card
and charged his freedom
a poets eyes see’s reflections in the windows
fog on the pond
tenderness in a drive-by shooting

captured in the claw of technology
my emotions carry over the bandwidth
past lonely midnight card games
clenched relationships &
fragile wireless hearts

“ihavent wokeupdrunk in tenYears”
but i remember the vomit stench, bloodand jail cells
like it wuz last night
now i can taste the sunsets and spit out all the
pits
i can see the whispers behind my back
and know just what they
translate
i can touch the moon and bath in its glow
i can hear the music and filter out all the static
i can plant a tree and count its leaves
i can dance
i can live
i can love

neonduskmondaynovember81999ninethirtysixpm

“Does God look down on the boys in the barroom,
Mainly forsaken but surely not judged.
Jacks, kings, and aces, their faces in wine,
Do lord deliver our kind.
From singing for whiskey three strings on the fiddle,
Four on the guitar and a song that I love.
Many’s the night we spent picking and singing,
In hopes it be pleasing both here and above.
Jack’s string fiddle to my sawtooth bow,
Who loves lonlieness loves it alone.
I love the dim lights like some love the dew”
~~~Robert Hunter

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