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Putting Some Miles On

another day older, and
all i seem to be left with
is my past to consider.

a consolation,
i put on the cool
jazz and it takes
me back in time
to the time
when miles said

"don't fear mistakes-
 there aren't any."

that's right he did,
you remember that?
the katydid and
in the background she
rosins up her wings,
picking up his tune,
and it takes me back
to that warm night in june
when all she could say
was "yes"
and all i could think
was "yes"
and now she's gone
while i'm here and it's now
and this sucks-
i feel
i must have gotten lost
somehow in the melody of
"remember the time"

stuck somewhere in that last line
that plays over and over and over
again another day tries to get in
but that door's closed, man
those windows are barred.

and i'm heading over to the nearest bar,
because sobriety is shit without serenity,
and life means nothing to me
without her to share it with.


there are none.
there's just this.
you're all out there stretching your necks
to lend us your ear, but all we smell is the fear.
davis.  piņero.  basquiat.
they knew what they were doing.

cool jazz
short eyes
& canvas smothered by a dope fiend's cries.

you know,
none of this can bring you back-
you never get another first time.

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