Gut string guit-ring

dancin' hat and drinkin shoes
elevator goin up, or goin down blues
a few truths and a noose is proof
for shootin out the moon

mirrors and beards and flashlight tag
you're it when you're illuminated.


the car has it's own lane, the bike it's own life
and mine is a twisted cardboard figure
so figure that out.
short stories of quarries and queries about
where you'll be when the man comes down

sitting on a gut string guitar hamstringed and ringing
pure tone.