At the end of US 1

At the end of US 1
where the highway joins the sea
clear sky, blue waves
that’s where I want to be

At the end of US 1
where drinks and money flow
inhibitions abandoned
in the moonlight’s glow

At the end of US 1
where it’s always 5 o’clock
and under-sea adventures wait
just beyond the dock

At the end of US 1
where a new world begins
living is encouraged
so forget your sins

At the end of US 1
where endless tides churn the sea
At the end of US 1
where the ocean calls to me

Beneath Paris Streets

Down the twisting staircase
beneath the vibrancy of the world.
 
Here the living are foreigners
fragmented by the lapse of time.
Here the dead reign
in their forgotten kingdom.
 
Centuries sing their secrets
in a language not meant for our ears.
 
The scent of time passed
is overwhelming in the dark.
Sightless eyes watch as we mimic
their fleeing memories.
 
Ivory smiles mock us as we
pretend to escape.

Champs Elysee

Where soldiers once marched
they now lie alone
but not truly alone.
People flock to the flame
like moths,
picking apart the remnants
of history
forgotten yet memorialized.
 
They are structures
of the past
blotted out
by the surroundings
they never knew.
Baguettes and shopping bags
have replaced bayonets.
 
Screams are no longer
from fear or pain
but elation
at the approaching celebrity
and flashes of red,
not blood
but fashion.
 
A Burberry scarf strangling
a Printemps mannequin.