My Salad Years

It was rebel poetry
And Ayn Rand.
Kipling, Kafka
The whole clan.

Two Ts and a denim
Train ride second class
A little went quite a way
With Saki and Richard Bach
The world was pink
And veins were green
Dreams were doped
With adrenaline
Today’s patience
Tomorrow’s pleasure
Illusions real
Love forever

Yes, it was reckless
And I couldn’t care less
There was always another day
To clean up the mess
It was adventure into pain
And tryst with failures
Restitution, resurrection
And deep-swigging fears
Introspection, exploration
Sandburg and Freud
Of first kiss and inhibitions
And moments celluloid

It was Howard Roark
And choked tears
Angst and attitude
My Salad years.

Chase

I keep searching you amidst a thousand faces
And it is foolish but love is a strange thing
Every passing car and every side-walk
My butterfly hope, everchasing