Post-Processing

Would this be a crime?
To free myself from time
Clear post-processed dates
Promptly from my plate
Linger on the Midnight sun
Awaken deep in freedom
No more stale cold gray
Nothing left to do but play?

Is there another dance?
To boldly take the chance
Abandon responsibilities
For endless possibilities
Letting go of one
Holding on to none
Not needing to define
Would this be a crime?

Sicko in Peru

Sicko in Peru,
Oh what to do?
Not feeling well,
The trip from hell,
If only to stop the poo.

Maybe a hug,
Or some great drug,
Would be a remedy,
To this clamity,
Of feeling like a slug.