"Last Moving Moments"
Moving moments fall into the sea to me.
They don't bounce out on a floor.
Go knock on the door.
A skin's soar.
Don't make me sweat anymore!
A green ping pong ball slipped through the yellow painted store.
There is no alphabet or numbers where I live.
No colors, speech, or sound.
No ground.
I can't be found.
Only cold and damp in these rotten dreams.
Or is that just what it appears or seems?
All is never lost but almost found.
There lies a never ending beginning.
Where top secrets lie on magic mountains.
In the houses' room.
A dusk needs a winter aconite summer.
In some places it's always spring and fall.
Others have none at all.
Outer space is just such a place.
No holidays or birthdays.
Dawn has no dreams.
Just heat and cold's extremes.
On a silver day by the San Francisco Bay.
Golden May is here to stay.
And they talk of yesterday's today.
I had my dreams of tomorrows.
In White Flames, N.Y.
By Your Good Man Friday
-alias -Jon Billet
