Archive for June, 1977


Thursday, June 9th, 1977

         So lost on the path am I
            that I grow weary of the pleasures here
               my soul burnt out from my crossways drives.

         Sometimes my eyes get so old I can hear them say,
            'Let me smile again, young and clean,
               on something I've not seen before.'

         The human condition, mine, so burnt out and jaded
            I writhe against my soul and passions
               like an animal trying to get free.

         But the years and habits like mycellium creep
            through the brighter ways I've known
               until I scarcely know I've ever been otherwise.

         Until the face in the mirror is mine and its dying
            wastrel, I've chosen how to spend my time
               pressed against my senses like some tourist
                  until I can't remember what I've bet.


— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —


Wednesday, June 15th, 1977

            End the crazy years and come down my friend
            you've turned from the task into fortune and flesh.
            There's no money or smiles can ease your turning.
            Find where the wind blows the hardest and go,
            seek the source of all your losing.

                                       15 Jun 77

— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —