With a trembling lip
And a Freudian slip
He’s falling on his face
No King, no Ace
No dice, oh
Christ
What’s the word I’m looking for?
It’s the feeling that you get
When you open up the door
See a twenty story drop
Where there should have been a floor
Guess it’s place, and the sense of it
A nonexistent membership
For anyone who’s willing
To believe in a lie
Just like I did
But my place was never anywhere
Was turning every stone
But the stones would never care
They were far too busy
Being fully unaware
But they know their place
Is exactly where they are
And where you’re going
Is exactly who you are
A Life in Poems 