There you have it 
the last nail it’s 
always about the nails 
and never the hammer 
or ever about who
is doing the hammering 
it’s always about those 
god damn nails where 
do people find nails 
anyway I can’t ever 
seem to find any 
but then again I’m 
not one who owns 
a hammer so nails 
are of very very
little use to me 

If I were
if I could 
then I would 
maybe even might 
but like many 
likely most even
overlooked I am 
not even vista
barely even inspiring
one more thing 
that someone else 
once found interesting 
on the side
of some road 

Well wishes 
folded cards
kind greetings 
all hoping 
empty boxes
tissue paper 
and ribbon 
these things 
all given 
quickly forgotten 
just one 
more day 
of one 
more year 
in one 
more lifetime 

I hear what
I heard then
as though words
keep washing ashore 
bringing with them 
little tiny treasures 
some sparkly some
smooth some rough 
but each bauble 
has been somewhere 
before found here
and isn’t that 
too just us

We frequently sell
what we have 
be it flesh
friendship or fame
I don’t blame 
nor ever shame 
anyone for selling 
what they have 
for when the 
book of life 
is finally tallied 
we are all 
just really whores
aren’t we though