St. Vincent

 You, 

I'm a silent fan of you,

A stalker in the night,

Filled with auditory delight.

I wish I may,

and I just might,

send a message of

admiration and 

pleasant surprise.

I really dig your musical tastes

It provides the mind with fruitful escape

to another land of

hope, light and dreams

But, of course,

In this world, 

Nothing is as it seems.

I used to share mixtapes, 

and burned cds, 

and copies of things, 

mostly music 

bustin the mental seams

Because life is short,

And filled with pockets,

Of memories 

And reveries

And shared loves with sockets 

(An allusion to being open,

A stretch,

But I digress)

Long story short,

My brain digs yours,

The wealth of knowledge

And access to

Our shared love

Of tape decks.

Hang in There

 Happy Holidays,

To you and yours!

It's funny how we

Just stay indoors,

To escape the fun

Of bug and cough.

It makes me wanna

Take the year off.

I didn't want to

Send you a check,

But I had the funds, 

So here's the rest. 

As a man of mail,

I gotta say,

You're doing a hell

Of a great job,

So, please hang in there; 

The world needs more

Of that pure spirit. 

Thanks!

WS2

 I was very happy, 

almost ecstatic, 

on cloud nine 

without a care 

in the everlasting world, 

and then,

tragically, 

I  saw you.

Scraps

 No, I don't want your scraps.  Although I'm grateful for a lobster roll, I want it to be fresh.   You're sick, so, no, I  don't want your scraps.

I feel like you don't care enough to see me happy.  On one hand, you tried, and I'm grateful. On the other hand, I don't want to settle for scraps.