It was hard going – / Stagnant and smoldered … / The city moaned and smoldered / Tin cans on the banks like shackles … / To be discovered, in the open … (Johannes Bigge Trio, poem by Lawson Fusao Inada)

Some days fall in numbers one by one / Some days I’m caught between the twilight and the dawn / I think I did run out of luck without you / Smeared like a sunset with nothing left to loose / Here I am, here I drink and here I’ll be gone / Singing swing […]

I’m heading north on some old and dusty gravel road / Heading to where the wind hit heavy on the shore line / I’m going to where the weather always suits my clothes / Heading down back road 49 (SongDogs)