Red Shoe Artist

Nothing happened today

And everything happened too

These days have become habitual

Feet falling to the ground

standing in a comatose-like zen posture,

I blink

People mistake it for winking

Hard to shake some habits

I live in the ‘why bother’ age

where living defines you

Anger – Anger – Anger

“God I wish I was more like you”

Maybe if I lay down and

rest my head on your lap

I can close my eyes and

hear you describe the world

Maybe might convince me

the world is a beautiful place