I discovered I was funny
while bartending in Orlando
and then in NYC.
Confidence is a killer
and the dishes were all shattered,
heat waves help the creative process,
same as blizzards.
Woke up in my clothes
having dreamt of you
and the future, again.
Moving on,
I miss ya, Kendra Jean,
and every sound makes me
remember that.
But the birds in the trees
here in Venice Beach
know what I am going through.
There’s a gal back in Florida
that I love,
but she is young
and doesn’t know what she wants.
I’m trying to be better
and bet on newness and air,
but it just isn’t there.
It's okay, unlock it all, because
we all lose races,
speaking and screaming in hush tones,
certain faces haunt me more than most.