Considerations On The Rolodex Incident

world war 2 buddies
who will listen as I talk
what is this house even worth
nothing but a last sleeping november
soft graces that once filled these spaces
a tired hand holding a lit cigarette
no more places left to go
no more reason
for doubt
for a mind
that yearned to soar
but feared flight
will I learn to travel
light
will I learn to travel
by the aligned constellations
I watch for
in the night

me and sailors
me and my guitar
just a lonesome road
you know
the ones you read about?

how did we get here
without a map and no idea
just some bitter idea
of perfection
that eventually requires
correction
lay a little here
and a bit with spite
and a little with each person
 in your rockets
we're all astronauts
exploring the unknown
travellign through astral snow
learning a little bit
as we go.