It was on Washington Street
San Francisco
In the old brick building
Where I watched you shoot up
On your bed
You asked if I wanted any
"Just a little
make sure it's a clean needle"
And I felt warmer than I had
Before
We chain smoked then climbed from your window
Up the ladder to the roof
And watched the fog roll in
Through the Golden Gate
On an otherwise lovely day
I walked down the hill
To Van Ness Avenue
And caught the 49
To City College
I nearly nodded off in a field
Before geography class
What a sick little mess I was
At 23
It's been years since
I've seen her

David Bowie died
I watched my brother get taken away
by parole officers
Drug charges
He served 6 months
In August I put my dog down
He became unwell
I pet him as the vet
injected
It's hard to say goodbye
In September a dear friend
Was killed on his motorcycle
In Oregon
Smashed by a semi-truck
I was supposed to see him two days later
At a wedding
It's hard to say goodbye
In late October my mother
Had a nervous breakdown
She said she couldn't trust me
Before being taken away in an ambulance
She's not the same person now
Leonard Cohen died as well
And it's not even December

Sammy died on the 4th of July
in a fire
He tried to save his house mates
from the burning wreckage
but never emerged
We didn't always get along
In fact at times I thought
he hated me
Disappointed in my decisions
or lack of self control
I cried at his funeral and couldn't stand
to see him stuffed inside
a little box
Today is Sammy's birthday
and I celebrate the life
of a friend I love
By remembering
and continuing on
with his ghost at my side
There's nothing else
I can do

I am who I'm with
I am not as I appear
I am a chameleon
I change
too much
to stay
alive

In a ***** roadside bar
lonely drunks remember themselves
briefly
they've experienced loss
like us
and once a week are invited
onto a damp little stage
under a flickering light
to say something
as a reminder
of their existence
in the middle of nowhere
like a wandering ghost
in an old motel

There's a weird door
on a hill
near my house
Beyond the door is just
more hill
What are you for
weird door?

She hides the scar with long sleeves
Even on scorching summer days
So no one can see
or ask why
I sometimes tell stupid jokes
to try and make her smile
But there's an awful sadness
in her eyes
that I can't cure
Nicky's wrist is a road-map
to a dark place
with no return ticket
She reaches for a bottle of pills
to knock her out at night
The knife she used
under the bed

I am not a cop
politician
or preacher
I am not the director
of advertising
head of sales
or top model
I am not your mother
father
or annoying uncle
therefore
I am not going to tell you
what to do

all you kids will figure it out
find love
feel free
it hurts now but I swear
one day you'll wake up
and be 43 years old
wishing you were young again
laughing at your past
shutting off your phone at dawn
to sleep an hour more

The carpet is ***** but I sleep
on the floor
of the room I lost my virginity in
when I was a teenager
where is she now I wonder
the view of the adjacent house
through the cobwebbed window
remains as it did
those ten or so years ago
shadows of trees dance on a fresh white coat in the sometimes breeze
overgrown bush and brick below
with grass and damp decoys
worried about an unwell friend
fighting the urge to walk
to the bottle shop
and forget about my life
for awhile

are you
criss-crossed
starstruck
routined
day dreamed
*** crazed
hex slaved
are you
nightmare fueled
leaving soon
paranoid
must avoid
money ******
no luck
love starved
too hard
no fun
on drugs
hate sun
are you
worse off
all talk
can't sleep
repeat
back seat
like me
want out
big mouth
head south
don't care
not there
are you
me?

today
the people you know
will act strange
towards you
they might project
their insecurities
more than usual
or lash out
intensely
maybe you will hear
from someone you
used to be close with
it's their way of dealing
with the uneasiness
my advice:
stay inside
ride it out
and remind yourself:
this will pass

I'm not doing
**** today

I can hurt you
the way you hurt me
but that is like picking
the low hanging fruit
I'd rather be
at the top of the tree
admiring the vastness
of everything beyond
the trivial rot
and the tangled roots
you've become

every night
riding home
I see a bright light
on the hill
near the park
where we used
to waste our days
I'm reminded of
your crystal eyes
shining alone
in an empty sea
of darkness
it makes me want
to vanish
into the nothing
from which we came
every night
riding home
I see a bright light
on the hill
near my heart
and I'm completely spent
the moment it
appears

instead of saying
do
instead of judging
help
instead of worrying
be
instead of hating
love
instead of hurting
heal
instead of taking
give
instead of crawling
FLY

how strange
the gift of contemplation
to allow the mind to wander
creating imaginary worlds
in our skulls
the ability to ponder
what meaning, if any
there is(n't)
in our fleeting days
we trivialize time
as a linear tool
by which we measure
our triumphs, losses
all the same
in the grand scheme
how strange
my arms and legs
moving, making
running in circles
to survive
but there's momentary bliss
in the recollection
of a beautiful day
with someone I loved
long ago
the clock stops
as does the pain
of existing within
such looming madness

they walk by holding hands
laughing
sometimes stopping
to steal a kiss
below the neon
of the city
and here I am
alone, watching
it would be easy to be bitter
but I'm happy for them
because I remember
how it felt
to have someone
to walk with
and it's beautiful, really
how we move in and out
of people's lives
temporary connections
can live forever
as long as we want
to remember

are we all so lost
howling at imaginary moons
such gloom
without glow
and the world goes by
from a window
are we all so trapped
in our own **** heads
no bed
like the death bed
and nothing moves as fast
as the moment
drunk instead
with electric blanket
at least I feel warmth
from something

I'm in love with
the idea of you
when you're near
I feel empty
it's better as
a daydream
in my head
you love the idea
of me

I now realize the best way to express my love for someone is to release them into the wild
free to become what they wish
encouraging them along their path
as a sister or a brother
how absurd to think
I used to want to control everything
driven by envy or fear
always blocking the light
from reaching my eyes
denying my true self
in a perpetual tailspin
with shovel in hand
digging holes for no reason
reluctant to grow
wings of my own
I now realize the best way to express my love for someone is to forgive them
even if they meant me harm
learning to love without conditions
is the sweetest release of all

there are two candles burning
in the dark
one is yours
one is mine
and though the flames
never touch
our lights combined
brighten the room
and I hope you stay
because there's already enough
empty space
in this world

the sky's pulse at dawn
with hungry birds navigating
the veins
of an endless cloudy sea
all pastel and dreary
the enveloping stillness
arouses the senses
awakens the spirit
and in the diffused light
I let go

to better years...
ones without the howling nonsense
the constant grind
the hovering fever
to better years...
ones without the flickering promises
the reluctant steps
the empty space
to better years...
ones without the ominous air
the wounded memories
the grueling present
to better years...
ones with you beside me
with moments of worth
with clarity abounds
to better years
to better years

listening from the window,
a freight train moans
slogging away at day's end
and a hissing wind
smashes rain around the road
all dim on the horizon
listening from the window,
there's a world full of people
moving, surviving
excessively or barely
in shadows or light
and how they do it
who knows
listening from the window,
old joys linger
I remember what brought me
here
and I think of the faces
that only reappear
in dreams

although our paths may never cross
I belong to you
and I don't feel the lonely wicked cold
like I used to
because I know you are out there
somewhere, stranger
haze-gazing
just like me
trudging along the best you can
filling some voids
where you see fit
with a heart that overflows
and understands
although our paths may never cross
you've helped me, stranger
and we are the same
throwing stars in the void
finding joy
in the empty space
of our days

there is a mountain
I know for I have seen it
in a dream
where regrets don't linger
and the swirling haunts cease
to maneuver around the skull
where trauma is a gift
from which we grow, absurdly
and the internal journey
to the soul's root
is a joyous pilgrimage
there is a mountain
seemingly out of reach
but through the fog it rises
and reminds us
to keep climbing
beginning with one step
from the shadowy dark
where the lights of closure
are within sight

the roof leaks
so we catch the rain
with buckets
the neighbors are loud
so we sleep with earplugs
sometimes
there's construction on the street below
so we learn to ignore the sound
of hammers and saws
the money has vanished
so we make due
with what we have

the full moon taunts me from above
like a frightened cop's flashlight
blinding, ready to pounce
"alone again, are you?" the moon scoffs
"yes," I reply
"by choice?"
"I'm a bit worn down, moon, to tell you the truth. I don't know if I'm capable of going out and pretending to be something I'm not anymore. I'd rather be by myself, honestly"
the moon pauses
and pauses some more
before it speaks
"then you shall become like me. viewed from another world, trapped in plain sight. although some find you beautiful, they'll never be able to touch you, to know you. I was once like you before I ended up here. it gets cold. enjoy being in the light of others. you don't need to be anything you're not. I sometimes wish I was the sun but there are things we can't become"

despite everything
here we are
with a beautiful opportunity
to change what we don't like
about ourselves
sometimes we dwell
on what's been lost
we pass by
like shadowy dusk
unnoticed
but despite it all
we stumble forth
growing growing
growing

the universe will provide you with
everything imaginable
but not until your inner light
shines peacefully
do not hold grudges against
those who have yet to ascend
we are all on different levels
of the same ladder
rising
it is delusional to think we deserve
anything other than what we give
love will find you, I know it
but only when the mirror is
your friend

I bought two bags of groceries
and carried them to a tent-village
along a nearby creek
when I arrived I didn't see anyone
and calmly asked
"hello? anyone here?"
from the labyrinth, a response
"who is it?!"
nervously shouted
"just a neighbor. I walk by here sometimes and wanted to bring you some food."
a man emerged from the tarp jungle
imaciated, he approached and extended his hand
"hello, I'm Dave -- and this, hey you can come out, it's ok -- this is my little brother"
a kid no older than 20 exited his tent
wounds on his face
skinny as a lamp post
I introduced myself
they were thankful for the food
but didn't want to talk long
I wished them well and walked home
in the rain
and it rained all night

there is someone thinking of you when it's late and can't sleep
someone that sees eternity in your glowing eyes but has trouble expressing it
there is someone that remembers every interaction
envisioning you from afar
grateful for your gifts and flaws
on this physical plane
there is someone lonely
with you in their dreams
wishing for the moment
to share their love
for the light you embody

waiting,
the sun drops below the highway
under the petrol station
beneath the parking lot
the man next to me keeps scratching himself
making small talk
I oblige him
the moon hangs above the strip mall
over the hillside
by the light post
I think about my whole life
in these moments
then the bus comes

A wind roars with the sounds of night. Leaves swirl with the commotions of human movement. All the familiar maddening noise of sirens, horns, hammers infinity. Everything flashing. I sample conversations of people passing through. All of them going somewhere in lines beneath road lights. They speak in tongues and walk rushed in orange vapor with no stars above. I am still, taking delight as an observer to such modern chaos. Tangled between some shadows there is beauty all around, unnoticed by most. The fear spreaders laugh in their towers and their minions do as they're told, chained to a righteous notion. But we know better and new loves bloom in our eternal fields. The seeds we spread are those of understanding, knowing it starts here, together. We stand at the basement level of heaven, looking for a ladder to the stars while radiation leaks and smoke stacks rise. As the world shrinks our ideas grow like lights forming in the ether. Gender, race, origin of birth -- all meaningless for we are one! Connected to the same source, the same void. Once realized, our potential lives in limitless bliss with no end looming.

Surrounded I feel more removed than ever. In a trudge thru a large crowd with my head down I see cracks in things. Yes my eyes are open. You have seen me on the bus or passing by at night. I was listening as you berated someone for twenty minutes on your phone at the back end where the lights don't shine and nothing seems real. I observe manic ego-Kings in dilusional splendor. Self congratulatory disciples of conditioned fear.
But there is music running through us all.
Every week I see towering redwoods and hovering skyscrapers; feel love and pain in the shadows abound. It's a constant meander, is it not? Up and down I'm here but where exactly? Instabilities act as isolation fuel. Floating around in a dream world unable to articulate how it feels. Memories pile up like old tires in a vacant lot beneath flickering neon. Some rot to the bone while the rest grow wild, continuously. The future stacks up as it tends to and we ask if anyone is out there, silently to the dusk within.

He approached me on Santa Rosa Ave.
and pulled out a cigarette
I was waiting for a ride
"I'm looking for some ****, man-
the good ****"
I didn't have any
He told me about his life on the streets
"I'm out here because I started smoking crystal. I smoked crack for twenty years and held down a job. I had a home"
He was forced out of a half-way house
on the east side of town
It was burned to the ground two weeks after he was removed
He smiled and asked
"You want to know who did it?"

We keep to ourselves
not because we're angry
It's just we are not consumed by
the same things
as others
There is nothing wrong with not wanting to be around people sometimes
Because when our eyes meet
on some street
We don't have to say anything
And this is enough
to make me feel sane
and want to see tomorrow

Sweet release in rumbling splendor
At strange hours her tension reaches
its zenith
Lungs at capacity
she exhales deeply
Unleashing energy with reverential force
The region wakes with panicked adrenaline
I'm ****** between rattling walls
screaming with her
There are some things we cannot control, she reminds us
And I'm grateful for this

I've seen it in your eyes
Unable move thru recent years
the way you imagined
Afraid to take a leap into
the unknown
I've seen it in your eyes
Blurry crystal orbs
filled with dreams
Always somewhere else
Unable to let go
I've seen it in your eyes
Defeated, haze-dwelling
perma-goner
Sleep alone and wake removed
Feeling lost but remember how far
you've come to be here in this impossible moment
There is something to be said
for those of us that keep going
So continue riding toward
your shining sea
Beyond

Body twisted on the sidewalk at mid-day
some pass by without noticing
A woman stops in stride and looks down at him, phone in hand
Her sundress swaying with the
LA breeze
"Is he sleeping?"
An ambulance came to haul him off
Rushed paramedics left one of his shoes on the sidewalk
In use hours ago
now a morbid sneaker monument
to what once was
There is human suffering in America
on landmark roads
next to high-end boutiques

I leave sometimes and feel the freedom I read about in all those books
watching mountains shrink from a moving window
the past stays with them
but crawls back at me
and fights to keep me anchored
to moments in time I used to want to
forget about
but I need them now to help me move toward whatever is next
not to be bothered with trivial errors
I forgive the absurdity which brings us
to where we are right now
confused together
having been told we are wrong
connected in spite of how it may seem
from a distance
anxious about money
and relentless bla-bla
bombarding us hourly
but pay no mind to
perpetual distractors
because there is a serene calm
when the sun rises over new terrain
and I'm alive to see it

I leave sometimes and my heart bursts
looking outward
seeing how sick we are
projecting insecurities
never trusting our instincts
condemning others
it's true we've known what to do
all along

I leave sometimes then return to familiar surroundings
having experienced something I can't explain
crossing paths with whoever was there
possibly for the last time
I will remember how it felt to be in a
delirious mist
with you