I feel like September most of the time.
Not too warm or cool,
not more of one thing than another,
barely discernable between
the hot haze of August
and October's sobering chill.

There is a certain dexterity needed
to balance the life with the death,
to be a ghost in time and place
and memory, together.
And if you look into the morning fog
and squint your eyes to see me,
then you are trying harder than you need.

tragedy,
like joy,
is built
in tiny
parts,

you can never
track
just how
it happened.

life is full of swallow hazards,
plastic pieces,
straight lines,
sharp edges.

one word
just one spark
one soul
just one race

remember

we built a tower up to heaven
reaching up and out to Him
curious to what’s beyond
united in our purpose then

one tongue
one mind
one hand
we climbed

the tower

and was it wrong to search the sky?
to know the angels, brush their wings?
was it wrong to meditate?
to equate ourselves to kings?

and when He deemed we rose too high
He brought the tower to the ground
colored flesh and broke our tongues
with a hard hand held us down

remember
the tower

and was it wrong to search the sky
with all those stars we looked upon?
to see the truths eluding us?
to know what heaven lies beyond?

I can’t understand
She let go of my hand
An’ left me here facing the wall
I’d sure like t’ know
Why she did go
But I can’t get close t’ her at all
Though we kissed through the wild blazing nighttime
She said she would never forget
But now mornin’s clear
It’s like I ain’t here
She just acts like we never have met

It’s all new t’ me
Like some mystery
It could even be like a myth
Yet it’s hard t’ think on
That she’s the same one
That last night I was with
From darkness, dreams’re deserted
Am I still dreamin’ yet?
I wish she’d unlock
Her voice once an’ talk
’Stead of acting like we never have met

If she ain’t feelin’ well
Then why don’t she tell
’Stead of turnin’ her back t’ my face?
Without any doubt
She seems too far out
For me t’ return t’ her chase
Though the night ran swirling an’ whirling
I remember her whispering yet
But evidently she don’t
An’ evidently she won’t
She just acts like we never have met

If I didn’t have t’ guess
I’d gladly confess
T’ anything I might’ve tried
If I was with ’er too long
Or have done something wrong
I wish she’d tell me what it is, I’ll run an’ hide
Though her skirt it swayed as a guitar played
Her mouth was watery and wet
But now something has changed
For she ain’t the same
She just acts like we never have met

I’m leavin’ today
I’ll be on my way
Of this I can’t say very much
But if you want me to
I can be just like you
An’ pretend that we never have touched
An’ if anybody asks me
“Is it easy to forget?”
I’ll say, “It’s easily done
You just pick anyone
An’ pretend that you never have met!”

I was talking to a preacher,
he said God was on my side.
So I looked left and I looked right.
"Then why's he so hard to find?"
He invited me to mass
but I respectfully declined.

Next day I saw a billboard,
"God is on his way.
Put on your Sunday best
'cause He'll be here today."
Why should I go to church, then?
There's nothing left to say.

I could use a bit of saving, sure,
but I'm too proud to bend my knees.
A drink shared with a woman
will put my soul at ease.
You can call me a sinner,
and all the angels would agree.

I think by now we know,
nearly 250 years after her birth,
that our America nears her 11th hour.
The tubes fastened, pumping *******
straight to her stomach
need not remain.
Her crowd of bedside mourners,
politicians shedding imitation tears
need not remain.
Drape the flag over her emaciated frame
and get on with the ceremonies.

Some say we are all made of star dust
but I don't buy it.
How could we be
when stars don't bleed like we bleed?