The Trouble with L.A.

nothing like gold to pass time

how little it means to us all

beginnings and endings 

all down in a line

shiny moments that trickle and fall

we choose what is more,

play it close to the vest  

we pray to live long

to outlive the rest

but what would we do

what would we do

what would we do with just a few of the best?

Time devoured in bulk 

so our sad lives march on

consumed and consumed until all time is gone

in misery grinding, we sink as we skulk

never stopping to notice – the rhythm’s all wrong 

do clocks give a damn for the time that they tick? 

those hands are advancing and eating us quick

so rush through the good on your quest for what’s better

careen through the bad, and wear time like a fetter 

 one hundred dull years – and you settle for this? 

one hundred dull years – to barely exist.

if I told you this moment is more than enough

that I don’t need a next one, and I’m calling your bluff

that here in this moment we have life in spades

would you know what I meant, before this moment fades?


Sand running through the bulbs of an hourglass

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