Hold on
Admissions...
The night and swelling sidewalks
Call to me.

Folding.
Submission.
Those blinking lights, a quickly
soothing need

Blue-white.
the walk signs,
I'm running past the end of
random chance

     Do winners ever quit when
               they're ahead?

Too many of these casino nights.
I never let them end, because I
     swear that Lucky Lil has eyes for me.

So I'll take my chances.
One more dance with these snakebite
     pints 'til I
can roll these X'd out lids
     over these swollen snake eyes.

Deuces.
I'm losing.
These sights and sounds made fuzzy,
buzzing slack.

Jackpot.
They have me.
I'm out of moves and fading
quick to black.

Odds are
I'm ending
the night wand'ring the sidewalks
with old dreams.

     Cuz losers never quit when
               they're ahead.

Too many of these casino nights
I never let them end because I
     swear that Lucky Lil has eyes for me.

But she's rolling shoulder,
rolling pupils and shooting
     weighted dice.
So roll my body out, over
     the curb, to midnight.

     Because I can never quit
               when I'm ahead.

I hope the snow never stops again!
I hope the Winter sinks under our skins!
I hope our four feet freeze
to the cold concrete
while our ghosts both escape in our breath!

If the thaw never comes to our aid
I'll be fine in these tracks that we've made.
I'll be okay right here
with a frostbit sneer
painted large on my **** stupid face!

               You've got the brains...
                   But not the time...

                  I had the dreams...
        But you knew I'm not too bright.

You'd rather leave than throw me a bone.
I'd rather live out my days in the cold
than beg you for one
while you don't have fun
and resent me for you growing old.

I'd rather freeze than thaw with a lie!
You'll be gone with the peak daytime high.
You're the smart one with big Springtime plans.
And I'm holding the bag with chapped hands...

Remember, one Summer,
street was closed for construction
We'd careen through the roads
near each other's homes.
Wheeling through dreams on our bikes
in the swelter
we'd reach for the sky 'neath the cottonwoods'
dome.

Some nights, I still walk through those
baseball glove hours--
those sweat-smelling days
                                       and
those Kool-Aid stain weeks.
And I can still feel that
pubescent laughter
which lived in my chest
                                       and
still pounds for release.

I've leased some apartments
and filed my taxes.
I've broken some promises
                                        and
           I've been destroyed
And I've been rebuilt, but never rebranded
                            Those
                Summer time sunsets
               tattooed on my sinews,
              they just wouldn't have it.

Flashing grasp of an idea
Before our youths were ever cashed in.
Held onto our chips, played close to the vest
                    in snow.
You were never enough sleeping,
And I guess I was just dreaming
                    of passing
                        ships
                    in the night
            and your signal lights
                        aglow.

                  ...in the foam...

Adventure was calling a heart slow to age,
the same as it had back in our young Old Days.
               So, some things don't change.

I remember, in the Winter,
Trudging quick to campus coffee shop.
Your wet hair frozen, and my breath in that
                    moment...

Springtime flash of our confessions
Just as our youths were getting cashed in.
Released all our chips we'd held close to our chests.
                    Let go.
We were lovers for a season
'til a sudden Summer leaving
                    a passing
                     of boats
                      in heat
             put our oars down
                and we rowed.

That feeling was calling my heart--"Time to age!"
Still falling, like it had in our young Old Days.
                         I guess some things don't change.

Along the way,
You must have fossilized inside me.
Lightning on waves--
Metastasized my bad dreams.
And, over time, see that I was a distraction
                                   No traction,
                                   No chance,
and no time for empty grief...
                         ...it's only brief, love,
                                still I did sink.

The last rays of sunlight were purple
on the day the last fat cat died.
     From the street corners
     we saw them chasing
               their tails,
                        bailing water
          that was rising high.

                    It could never
                      last forever,
               whatever they said--
        --Could we ever have prepared
                     for that Fall?
                Call the Springtime.
          No Rewind of Our Discontent.
                  Meant to seize this
          while their machines stalled.

Look alive. Stay with me...

I wanna be there
          when the missiles drop.
Wanna be there when the pavement cracks
and scoop up the last embers of this city
          while you hold my hand.
I wanna be there
          when illusions fail.
Wanna be there when their smirks turn sour.
When the last of all the fat cats starves.
When they see the passing of their hour.

Look alive. Stay with me...

The last rays of sunlight were splitting
off Their glass towers' cracking panes.
     From the bus stops we
     saw them--their faces
               went grey,
                        flailing Dollars
          could not pad their pains.

                     It could never
                      hold forever,
               this Center they bought.
             But they never did prepare
                        for the end.
                Call the Springtime.
          No Rewind of Our Discontent.
                  Meant to shout it
               but the message sent.

Look alive. Stay with me...

I wanna be there
          when the pavement cracks.
Wanna be there when logistics fail.
And two-step on the cinders of this **** heap
           while the masters wail.
I wanna be there
           when their money burns.
Wanna be there when their neckties squeeze.
When the last of all their bonds will merge
When the fat cats die upon their knees.

Wanna be there when the missiles drop
And scoop up the last embers of this city
               while you hold my hand.

                         Look alive...

Cold nights
               It's always Winter here.
It seems this season's stretching on all year.
               The beers are gone
               so let's get walking.
                           Grab
    your coat and let's do some talking.
Loud, through the night.
Know our strides will crunch through old snow
beneath old street signs.

                                              Best
      ­                                   bets aside,
                                    did you gamble
                                       on my days?
                               Did I waste your time?

Days come early,
nailguns out.
Walls go up and ambitions drown.
4 blocks down the street, you're screaming,
"**** the cold and this town. I'm leaving."
                     Sheetrock walls
               and paycheck borders
                     keep us pinned,
                in line, on short order.
                              Cook
                    our­ melting brains.
                        Froze in place
and broke your heart, rinsed me down the drain.

Cold nights
               It's always Winter here.
This frigid season's stretching on all year.
               The beers are gone
               so let's get walking.
                           Grab
    your coat 'cuz them ghosts been talking.
Howling each day.
Haunting all our snowbound steps and
rattling their chains.


                                          Alarms and cars
                                        and pulsing hearts.
                                               Cheapest
                                        prices paid to make
                                                our wage.

                                         The clocks in bars
                                       count tarnished stars.
                                                 Cheapest
                                         prices paid to pave
                                                 our ways.


                                              Best
      ­                                   bets aside,
                                    did you gamble
                                       on my days?
                               Did I waste your time?


Days come early,
nailguns out.
Walls go up and ambitions drown.
2 blocks down the Ave., I'm shouting,
"**** the wind and the snow that's pounding."
                     Rent check walls
               and sheetrock borders
                     keep us pinned,
                in line, on short order.
                              Cook
                    our­ melting brains.
                        Froze in place
and broke my will, rinsed you down the drain.

                                            And I'll move

                                                4 blocks

                                              next Spring...