I touched your spine and it bent
like a tree angry with the river angry
with the train that passes every morning
at 2:43 am and wakes the young sleeping boy

Once it came at 2:42 am and it woke
up everybody in the town because none
of their dreams had prepared themselves
for this startling event.

The clocks all struck midnight
but that’s okay when you work nights
for a pocket full of singles
and a paycheck which never seems quite enough
come buy the painkiller
the rain won’t stop falling
until you do
and at times when grey cloud curtains
part to show you that
heaven isn’t
you’ll be glad for that liquid encouragement
and those knee pads
because this parking lot is gravel
and that small lot will never be a park
where kids can play without stepping on
the shards of broken hail mary prayers
for all the times the hands pass go
and collect their 2000 sea shells
not much has changed

When he ran
the fire was close behind.
Black smoke billowing from the sky.
It wrapped him up in a cocoon of
depression.
Who watches him know?
He will never forgive you for what you have done.
Would you truly want forgiveness?

The sun sets over the buildings
and he can see.
Church steeples and pebbles rolling over the road.
He is a hawk,
if only for today.

Can you hear the horses?
Thumping through our night,
their day.
This is where the world was made.
Pushing down on the Earth.
The good Lord will forgive all.

He runs by billboards and broken windows.
Haunted by the future.
Giving it all up for a quick fix.
Don't worry.
He'll forgive you.

When he ran,
he tripped and bathed in fire.
Welcoming him home.

It’s only ever once
I’m inside the box
of your mind
that my tongue turns
misty blue
and in small whispers,
I pass away,
dying in some nonchalant way.
Oh how the days race on by
and how you pretend not to notice
that I’ve got my eagle eyes on you.

Easy shells,
we’ve made a mockery
of legitimate feelings
but I cannot deny such vraisemblance

You are a beach
in September,
or a summer in
rigor mortis.
I think we were both dead
when we met,
only just beginning to beg for rebirth
and I brought you maps of no-man’s land
so now here we are

Stuck in the mud
of a pneumonatic love.
I will always be the coughing Queen of Anomie
and you’ve still yet to unleash
your lungs.

Castles in the sky
Overtake my vision for miles
They seem so close
Yet they climb still higher
Pieces fall off, come to the Earth
Bless us sweet castle, your bricks bring birth

Castles in the sky
Dark and non inviting
May bring young children nightmares
But over life are more enticing
Floating high above the wars
Inhaling sunshine through their doors

Castles in the sky
Filled with life and destruction
I open my heart to thee
My lungs fill with obstruction
Closest to me, this form of it
Soul- leaving body in a blue, endless pit

Dear Night;

The day breaks like a child's neck,
And there she is -
Like a fresh sand hills beckoned seductively
By childish poetry that
Rings off the fingertips like marshmallows
Burnt from too much *****

A cradle erupts:
Two deaths turning into one,
A turning sensation of philosophers timid to experience
We are what?
We are the writhing fiends caught on
By electricity sought upon by
The high priests of a no man's land
Billy the Kid

Tragic care giving fiends telling tales
Of naturality that grow like figs neath virgins
And we share the fragrance of foreigners
Dancing neath' their dead bodies for we
Are the store fronts of the epileptic rich

Sharing nothing, we forgive the dead angels that
Share in nothing but their own salvation
And we the nation hold their hands as they are handed
Their medals that shine and beat against innocent
Sun where we - Good Humans - will always feel inferior

I take thee for my own prisoner
Let's go and check out the sun for mine own
I said I was having sun...asleep
Mine own mind was bent, crooked, doomed
Warranted evil will of course be put to light

Teller tell me what I wish to know
You tell me the secret
You wish to hold, oh' you wish to keep
We are the children you asked for
But you are so unwilling up accept

But the press is something that is intangible
They are spread spearers that are accepted as they are:
A good german; a fair dutchman; a funny Chaplin;
Genius moving with insecure marijuana.

But she presses her own soul on the glass
Never lasting - a pure bread horse
There she stands, like an egyptian statuette incarnate
Breaking through the clouds like a pillar
Bent only for salvation and glory

A cool informant next to Hemingway that breaks
The next vinyl that's hot mixed with devil sweat
Someone breathes something on my neck and I'm soon
To wonder what the next place I need to be is
So...I wonder...Myself is the one to take care of this mess?

Here we are - stagnant - like a tombstone,
Wondering what we are meant for and wondering
Where we are not supposed to go.
We have our labels.
We have our names.
And, yes, we have our jobs that were
Given to us by companies that have no face,
Only a name and yet we obey...

Too push a confidence you have to ask me
What I wish to know for the assignment that no one cares about
After I get what people will listen too
What the truth is a very thing
I love the hash that beeps like a dead hyena on the road side
Howling like a lost lover without someone to love