Tired

Dear Dayton, OH By, Jeffrey Dallet

Backwood boys with their cistern toys recap the clouds of childhood joys 'cause there's no such thing as a forest there anymore. The Salem saints have been defaced and the Seibenthaler hawks have been erased 'cause progress means leaving them all behind. Take your Caddy to the boarded eye of old 130 Marson Drive the body's there but the soul left long ago. Linger do the ghosts of Frigidaire, suffered same fate as the Mead book squares and the engineer says: kid you got a lot to learn about being an American. 

Bye Bye Middle Class Blues By, Jeffrey Dallet

Moneymen mayhem the inns are full in Bethlehem, top ten to them pick to please the minutemen, don't let regret stop to learn the two step, all set place bets on the glory you'll get. No hell to tell I'm in love with Kristen Bell, so swell feel well coming out of my shell, new pride to light ponder preacher's pot plight, life aint much without a giant appetite. 

So sing us the borrowed tunes, the one's everyone knows the words to, as they pimp it at the price that's just right for you- the bye bye middle class blues. 

My Old Record Store By, Jeffrey Dallet

Once upon a time when life was young and the art of communication, came in the form of poetry dancing to tunes of innovation. Flawless licks and priceless pics made up a square of revolution. Hidden inside are stories to find that give birth to stories of their own. 

On 52nd Street along a Cold Spring Harbor, an LA Woman played in a bowl of Hollywood Strange Days. Pieces of You were found in the days of August and Everything After inside my old record store. 

Gypsy Jewel By, Jeffrey Dallet

Gypsy Jewel girl singer in the band,

Spitting fire howling wolf at your command.

Rolling eyes in her diamond dusky glow, 

can I taste your smoky notes?

Breathe your soul into my breaking brain,

can your radiance at all be tamed? 

Rendering useless time's age and whispers of war, the future here must have happened once before. 

Waltz choreography done with couples.