i need you to keep me awake
until the palace band stops playing
and the trapped sand in my hands
turns into sea glass

i'm lit up but so easy to smother
by a wayward breath of wind
or the waxing moon's light temper
the errant smoke will twist forever

the sea was never so still
as the night i spilled my guts
in the sink from vanilla pills
and laughed at my immortality

when i scream underwater
the blue screams back to me
in my maraschino heart
i know one thing to be true:
that the cooing and the howling
will never leave the ocean floor
and fall upon the waiting ears
of those who i meant it for

I put on my dads coat
every time I leave to smoke
because between a long exhale
and his cologne
I remember in lucidity
one of the last times I saw him.

It was four in the morning
I was drunk on whiskey and alone
yet again,
not that he was surprised
or angered
by my antics.

As always
he was halfway
down the driveway
by the time
my phone rang.

"Do you have a cigarette on you?"

I was silent awhile
until I nodded,
shyly obliged,
and removed the last one from my pocket
which I gladly sacrificed.

He laughed and shook his head
his small fire illuminating the thick fog
around us
and his sunken eyes
exhausted from a day of work
that had drained us both.

My vision blurring
in and out of focus
fleeting street lights displayed
an abundance of nose marks
his favorite dog
left on the window.

I saw my fathers familiar hand
reach out
offering me a drag
which I silently accepted,
and I'm glad I did.

As the smoke cleared
I half-smiled to myself,
because if I could see us now
things would be different.

I unknowingly accepted
a share of the last gift
I would give.

I'm glad
I killed a piece of me
with him.

I'm glad
he still has it
wherever he is.

A pile of leaves
And the northern sky,
warn us
it's only a matter of time.

Diane,
out of control,
laughed and danced
on a hill.

prayers
paint the sky gray
change your mind,
on their lips

Baby, right on time,
the ocean air fanned
into that good night.

And we watched.

Nobody knows what the future holds:
keep on holding Diane
young,
or flip-flop,
try to go it alone?

Do you think you can go,
watch it all burn away?

It was only a matter of time:
Tottering off into that good night
on your own,

Baby it's a lifetime

like the end of day,
the wind picked up,
a wakeup call:
*the end of days