Good evening friends and enemies <-- (spelled that right just for you anonymous :) ), I've been spending some time with my poetry recently.. and have been considering trying to get some of it published.. I don't think i'll ever be a great poet or anything... but it's a hobby that fits well with my music. (anyone who doesn't think music is embedded in poetry, need only read a little kerouac.. or even better yet find a recording of him reading it himself.. My personal favorite is October on the Railroad earth, which i have a recording of.... but actually can't find a written version of ohh well I digress) ANYWAY.... I'm going to post some of my stuff here, as this is my place of posting stuff.. and also because i have no other easy outlet for critisism and compliment alike... So, please let me know what you think, and feel free to correct spelling, it'll give you something to do if all else.

As a partial forward to this post.. any of my dear old LVC'ers, the train mentioned here-in is in fact that dear line that ran behind ohh so many of our freshman dorms, and gave us reason to turn our TV's ohhh so much louder for minutes at a time. and though annoying at first, i think gave all of us a sense of comfort.

Tired Sounds reach tired eyes,
that appear saddened by the strain.
Your lonely walk home didn't have to be.

True an evening with friends heals much,
but by your face the scars run depper.
If we were still where the train went by,
I would think time much slower.

Growing old is worse than dying,
in death we all live forever.
Then being a whole, those friends never part,
and the train always whistles by.