Qua, Qua, Qua

Qua, Qua, Qua

-- Today everybody is thinking.

-- Ah, Lucky.

-- Don’t you mean luckily?

-- No, not at all. We think like Lucky. And out loud too. Very loud.

-- What?

-- Never mind…

-- That was a great album.

-- Yes it was. Puncher and Wattmann.

-- I thought it was Cobain and Grohl.

-- It was—Quaquaquaqua…

Into The Abyss

Into The Abyss

What may come?

They won’t be dreams.

Waking from a spring hibernation

To a summer of…

At least it won’t be the same.

Those hibernation dreams

            Some were nightmares

                        Of true horrors, that none of us actually saw

            Some were escapism

            Some were hopeful

            Some were dystopian, but we smiled

And now we walk out

            Some like a kid to the first day of school

            Some wishing they weren’t, or didn’t have to

            Some like zombies, already dead

            Some will never return

Most will—Again and again and again

            Into that abyss

            The habit of life

Habits of hope

            Habits of despair

                        All so hard to break