Change in aspirations.

When I was younger
I wanted to go out like Morrison.

Life lived at
break neck speed

Debauched

High

Dead in Paris
at age 28.

Nowadays
I just want to be
Tom Waits

Sat on a porch
with a glass of wine
in my hand

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poem by Neil Gray
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Front.

There's a Raven
that lives in the tree
that sit's at the bottom
of my garden
and my cat's have taken
to stalking it.

The only problem is
that this Raven
is as big
as they are.

Yet still,
everytime they slide
outside they
sit waiting for it
to land
on the grass.

And this morning it did.

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poem by Neil Gray
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Senecot.

When it dosen't flow,
When the Dam's backed up,
When the mind reels from constapation,

You find yourself wondering

Is this it?

Is this the time when the talent,
if any,
stops?

You'll never spill words upon the page again,
You'll never bleed out this raging torrent
of simile's, metaphor's and hard owrn
cliche's from the veins
and into exsistance.

Left forever to choke
like a hanging man

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poem by Neil Gray
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