They just don’t make em like this anymore, folks.
Sometimes these treasure chests begin to orbit my heart and my
Skull and as soon as I become uncomfortable
Or sense the situation lagging
I can patch things through a strange
The rhythmic pounding of the Pacific’s lunar fingers calls to me each day. Whether these sirens of L.A. are calling me there or warning me to stay in the Northwest’s rainy blanket I’m Uncertain.