How are things on the West Coast?

A rush, a gush
Of emotional festering garbage
Plaguing me constantly

Turn it off

Because I was bubbly and cute
Smart and mysterious
I did it all right
But I didn't impress you
(You said I did)

I'm done with this malady
I want to go home.

Light's Upon Your Eyes

The day was gray
The clouds, a blanket that keeps us cold
Multidimensional colors of nature
Subdued all to drab

There was a patch of sunlight
Illuminated the wood pile and the surrounding strong sunflowers
(They called on their namesake)

By the time these words hit the paper, he was gone
A fleeting moment in a gray day
Reminding all life he's still there
(He's over the neighbors' house now!)

It sums up our existence
Still a sun behind a cloud, happiness in a mess
Today is September 11.

During payroll generation

I'm thinking of Vegas
Of sparking showgirls
And the diamonds in your eyes
Liquor-drenched sunburns
Aching feet and a casual passing

Of large groups and small ones
Slot machine ringing shenanigans
Overly expensive extravagance
And our dull little lives

Thinking this was the beginning
Of absolutely nothing
But wouldn't it have been great if it was?