his leisure suit is neatly folded
benith his sweating palms
each exact line per-measured and tailored
to demonstrate to all who gaze on his corrupt face
that he is a man in need of a beach
a little drink with an umbrella and
a dusky girl named Lola

she walks the fenceline
she mends the gaps with patchs from
the pants of this girl from phish tour
and peices of the tye-dye tapestry she uses as a blanket
we mend our lives with the things we have at hand
we see our lives in the slow motion
of each days new reality
regardless of its bearing on what reality really is
its a painting of a man painting a smile on a sad womans face
sitting on hasting's whisper wall

the corporate man
with his far eastern flavors
tends to exaggerate his bent frame
over people sitting at the whisper wall
his face sings a sweet song
but his fingers set fires in the pockets of passerby's
stealing the coins of the relm
but only the ones with a stuttering king

gone down this road many a time
seen this same company of rabble-rousers
dressed in folds of scented linen
walking along the river road
disscussing in mid-evil painters and poets
but they never resolve  the questions of the universe
they never even agree what topping to get on the pizza
so much for the rule of wisdom

been many years since i sat at
hastings-on-the-hudson's whisper wall
with that girl
but i still cherish the conversations we had
and time i spent there with her
i have a new whisper wall
on a beach facing the setting sun

relentless
the kitchen clock ticks
and without grief it lays out the
meat of night
bloodless and small
delicate in its twisting features
its bone thin fingers on spine
soft touch like fire

she is doubled up by
the toilet in a puddle of tears
and the sadness you feel is so complete
and completely yours alone
for she has gone beyond caring about inconsequential
thing like appearance
her lips cold
roll over broken words
puncture the hard surface
of her blatant thoughts
coarse and black with grease
a grave of concept
a concept of graves
interchangeably pattern

hours spent here
days and then you realize
its a lifetime
in the space between broken window
leaking frigid air
and the burning heat of her bed
the darkness that never lets
that is never abated by thouse who pass
thouse who tread with such care
hoping never to be seen benith the archway
benith flickering light
of the ***** trail

she laments
to no avail
pauses in her song to stare at you openly
without a word
she resumes the dance
of tale and blade
of knife and tongue
till they are one and the same
till her voice is the thing cutting into you
until her voice is consuming you
and its dark juice is feeding on you
imperfections in her vision

(part two)

it is now him
the pornographic box of her mind
is full of her noise
her voice distorted into his
her thoughts melt into his
until she is him
and she no longer feels lost
she feels hot sticky and wet
she feels like fresh paint drying
slow wicked and tense
like a serpent coiled for a strike
at his heart
the exact center of his beating heart
she will see it cease
she will be a ******
she will be an ****** of imperfections

his lazy eye
wanders over her wet form
clawing at bits of cloth
gnawing at the fundamentals of her flesh
consume the parking lot of her brow
where her doubts show
in neatly lined rows
devour the candy samples of her lips
rose colored and tasting like rivers of cherry
where her words fall from
like molten razors

his ***** fingers
caress her clean thin wrist
bracelet golden
with painted jewels pink and cheerful
paint slopped outside the lines
he inspects its every inch
marveling that she could have imperfection
his lazy mind wanders all over her
and his greasy thoughts leaves trails of
butter smooth filth
and insects eating ravenously of the
stench and disease

this is no fantasy
its a disrobed natural kernel of truth
up from dark city street

her dreads bounce on her shoulder
as we walk in the pouring rain
and they sparkle
in the towns lights
like magic
like her
shine wherever they go

she carries her rainbows with her
like the warmth of her heart
like the smiles she has for any kind soul
jezebel's rainbows
sparkle thru this crystal ball she has
woven into her dreadlocks
so she can always have her rainbows with her

the beads and baubles
she has woven into her dreads
iv kissed each one tenderly
everything about this beautiful woman
is entrancing to me

and its raining again
but that's alright
with you standing here with me
take my hand
and it don't seem so bad
you look up at me
and manage a soft smile
and suddenly my heart is walking on
rainbows
and the day smells like spring
your smiles always bring out the best in me

its raining again
but that's alright
with you by my side
it feels like there is a bright road ahead of me
feels like there's rainbows to be found
and firefly's to be chased

i'm ready for anything
this world has to dish out
long as shes at my side

love you baby

you may be confused by her
apparent lack of pants
but not to worry
there is a logical explanation
and like any other explanation  i assure
you we will hunt it down and
put it out of its misery
explanations shouldn't be allowed to run loose
next thing you know we will have understandings
and that's not gonna happen
not on my watch kiddo
nothing worse than reasons for every little thing
the universe should have mystery
and her ****** should remain one of em
preferably someplace else
but there it is
she is carrying her personal plastic tupperware jesus
cause we all have our crosses to bear
and she hasnt got any pockets
i feel so bankrupt
by this ******-social  two step dance i'm getting
whatever happened to just sitting down
and talking it out
but i don't want to know
that requires an explanation
leading to an understanding
and eventually enlightenment
and oh my god don't ever say that "e" word in my presence again

moral she says
but i don't believe
so i know it'll come easy to me
know it'll be pure for me
hear it breath
see it grow
trance me into believing
cold brick of the city
and all the things she forgave me for
see all the dark things
know all the living things inanimate
give all the things broken
and no longer believed to be

and the dream scattered
at our feet like fall leaves
brittle and crisp
and i can still hear her footsteps echoing across
the floor
retreating from all the things
she could not face alone
bit could not face here with me
a choice to be sure
but in the fading lights
what a tragic choice
what madness to choose

our past
now it looms so large
so immediate to me
tears hot wild and burning
overtake and leave me collapsed on the
floor here amongst the scattered remains
of our days
with her last words
lingering softly in my ear
bye my darling
i go to find st petersburg
i go to find something i cant see
intangible as me
bye love bye
fall down now lover
iv left
cause as a woman i know poisons of myth
i knew the harshness of dreams
and iv got to
run from all that i cant feel anymore

i go hand in hand with scarlet
to st petersburg
trying to find my way home
i go to find somthing i cant see
intangible as hope

her face a bold echo of all she left behind
a slow symphony of nasty things that linger in her mind
she lives them over and over
in the off color technical vision
of an artist trying on her own guises for a adventure
the night crawls over her thigh
lodges in the warm wet of her fingers
and spreads into the windows
grey fades into black

the slow devolution
into the jaundiced eye
into the nicotine stained tapping fingers as she impatiently
waits for words that can never be spoken aloud
the slow desire for tears
so deep and immediate that its a bible to the lonely soul
and her senses deny you
even as you touch the door
even as you evaporate down the hall
melt yourself into the humid night
so fair is her face that you live each of thouse seconds in dire regret
so fair is her touch that you must lean on your last breath
to let go

the night crawls
in her bed clothes
laying its fetid eggs
like a stain of pollution tender and sickly sweet
its insect face bitter staring from her soul
now i see you

you escape over and over
door
hall
humid night
door
hall
humid night
but you never leave

narrow her eye jaundiced and rancid
lay open for the world to see and be seen by
and she molds him to the stain of her hurt
deep impressions over the years leaves him little room to
wiggle wiggle worm, wiggle wiggle worm

alone in the mirror of her minds eye
alone with the trail of thoughts leading off into the night
she feels a moment of desperation
can she find her way without him
can she know the right from the wrong
and will she ever feel that way she did ever again
can she feel that burst of heat and light
that burning hot love and passion

alone she steps into the darkness of all her tomorrows
and though the air feels light and crisp
she breaths with such tender care
with such trepidation
the symphony of changing feelings flow thru her
in this moment
both tears and smiles
hurt her features and brazenly flow from her eye

deep and wide
the day
she pauses at the sound of footsteps
the city draws back to reveal
the emptiness it contains
nothing is something no-one needs
and she has discovered its face benith all the dreams
she once held so dear

heartbeat sure and quick
breathing slowly now
her soft wet lips works over the words like a prizefighter
each landing of syllable defeats fear
each  narrowly placed thought sheds light on the unknown
and she comes to the edge of realization
steps slowly into resolution
that to find a way
she must release regret

he cannot return to where he was
he too has traveled this night
and while one may indeed replace ones footsteps
you will never tread them in the same way twice

all the poster perfect girls like her
are out in the field chasing firefly's
old men from the town look on with awe
they pause in collecting
all the eyes upon them in mason jars
to resell on the boardwalk by the seaside
to the tourists so they will only glimpse what they
will want to sightsee

you tell them that you had borrowed
your buick and a rose colored jacket
from a ribald singer from the ancient city
and her beard confused you into believing
that her favors are something rare and fine
like bone china from from Florida south coast
but its just semi-naked co-ed selling cookies
under the guise of a better world
one donation at a time
she sings softly to you
please mister lean in a little closer and make
all the world a better place

all the world is watching or so it feels like
and your step is light and full of imagined stars and sparkles
as the couple in the next room violently kiss
they are into the world and to them
the world is into them
laugh as hard as you can
laugh till you cry
the world takes no notice
she sings softly to you
please mister lean in a little closer
and comfort thouse who need it

the night is full of people
out strolling and laughing under summer stars
and a penny whistle player keeps the tune going
while she sings a ballad she heard in the far west
and dont it seem like nights like this are so perfect that
you could wrap em up and send em out for Christmas

the poster perfect girls all fall asleep
in a soft warm pile benith the moon
and you unload your burdens and lay there too
in the beautiful company
as the penny whistle player turns to a stronger tune
that gives you dreams of the sea
of the time you spent nailing Captain Kidd to the floor
and now hes one of your best friends
this life is a dream
and while its not always what we'd want
it never gets dull
she sings softly to you
please mister lean in a little closer
and make the dream true

the pretty maiden wearing a blue chambermaid dress
her placard read "don't abandon me here"
which she carries down the dusty street
everyone stops to stare
as she walks slowly by
they all feel so sorry for her
she was left here by Knights of Columbus back in 1967
her prom date kissed her on lips
and she lived all her life for that moment
for the perfect guy
for that perfect kiss
and she has been wandering these backwater towns since
trying recapture that kiss
nobody can seem to love her like he did
and he got in his showboat convertible and drove off
after the parade that day
left her standing here in the middle of main street
with party favors and streamers at her feet
now she is an icon for all the century's between now and then
and America growing out of its childhood
July fourth isn't about family anymore
its about bigger bang for your buck at the mall
here she comes again
her hollow eyes are staring off to the horizon
where she expects to see
her prom date to come back for her some day
he will be her knight in shining Buick
come to sweep her off her weary feet
on theses dusty backwater streets
in an older and sadder America

she wandered the beach
shoes in hand
her long brown hair flowing behind
her summer dress a flowing dream
and the afternoon sun sparkles create a tune in the heart
one simple and pure melody
that skips a beat just like my heart when her eyes meet mine
and she is in all my senses like a perfect candle light dinner for two
in the the perfect place side street of some romantic town
and forever later  she giggles and pokes me
hey silly wake up
lets go home and lay by the fire
and drench each other in kisses
shower each other in a tempest of caresses
know each other like lovers do
laughing and whispering all night
eyes wide at how wonderful we feel to be near
senses wide at each sweet second of electric touch
strange and long the song but it dosnt matter
long as your near me
as long as your here with me

pour her slowly onto the page
each inch of her soft skin released in liquid
onto the ambiguous background
sharp and clear
her features worn with the hours
seems bleak to the touch
seems to be a long distance to travel for a tear that never falls
a bitter moment
pour her essence onto the deep white page
and she fills the void
she is the void
with alive colors
with dead space between her words
and i lean on her ear
but the things i say evaporate
and the things i feel become whispers of smoke
that she puffs on with causal care
tenderly caress my mind
as i pour her out
eclipse her with brush
overshadow her with shutter speed
and wait for her to capture me before i can flee

i poured her onto the page
every soft inch of her skin
a liquid flowing careful and easy on
the white portrait backdrop
i capture conifer scent
and her profile lanced by pine needles
leisure in the wood
her voice a narrow sharp instrument

her wide hips
swinging slow and ****
packed in skintight jean
and making my mind hazy
with things i shouldn't feel bout a friend
but she moves back and forth back and forth
and the thoughts wont leave me alone

she is a portrait i saw today
and i loved her
as she was seen
and i knew her as she was meant to be
forgiven and forgiving
in an endless night

the right eye cant see the left side
so  it don't exist so it reasons
and taking that logic to its conclusion
you roll down to your job and chop up
your desk into a million medicinal pieces
swallow it all now
its good for you to consume the things that make up who you
used to be

can i get sick on  you
she asks with a small smile
it'll be warm and comforting
but think that'd be pretty bad
and you get on down the road before she can sing that song
you come across a confused minstrel
who is sitting in the crossroads crying
at his dying profession
till you remind him that even bobby dylan is still humming
someplace in the back rooms of
earthly heaven

skip and sing thru the nights darkness
and stand up and belt one out for the ***** girls
and their glory days
and the comforts they gave to you
all kinds of warm and giving
alright
ride the waves on the east sea
slow and easy like you are ten years younger
like you are million dollars richer
cause you and i know that you only live once
and you might as well smile smile smile
as good ole jerry said
and wouldn't ya know that some old
cold hand would try and take that away too

so easy on it baby
easy on that gear
it'll be alright till first light
we will be ok

the boldness of your words has faded
and the heat of your passionate heart has cooled
with the hours piled one on another
until all thought of action is smothered in the wine of sophistry
until all thought of release from this course has vanished

you bend to the wind of change
hoping to find sweeter fortune
but you cast about with careless hand at the proper set
for the sail and loose the tack
you are running blind into the maelstrom
you are without rhyme or reason in the land of logic

                                   the sun slowly seeps thru the narrow window
and heats the burnished dark wood
igniting the scents of oak and polish
bringing back the rich and deep aroma of childhood
and mansions of gilded iron and stone
the years when your path seemed sure and true
when your destiny and purpose seemed so clear

but as the sun dies in the west
and the cold of night summons itself to your heart
you wish once more to find that heat
of youth
that stalwart strength that never failed you
and kept your heart from troubled thoughts
in dark times
you wish once again that she was here
that she had lived
to be at your side this dark dark night

as the last few rays of the sun
slip away from the narrow window
my friend
i shed a tear for one and all of us
that have passed this cold dark place
we have buried many friends
we have seen far too much
and have felt so helpless in the face it all
as these last few rays of sun slip away
i think of her
i think you my friend
i wonder how much longer till i join you
in the distant land

garbled words stutter
through the thickly laden room
its garnished with the trappings
of merriment now long forgotten
of joys long since gone to dust

he rubs clean his eye
and attempt focus
but thrown off by imbalances in
the sound of the place
the echo leaves odd thoughts
and her singing whisper is off key
she smiles and runs a greasy hand up
rubber thigh in blatant invitation
that would send any lecherous man to seminary school

I wonder at times what it
would take to see a place like this the way it was
meant to be
then I remember that remembering is the key

he waits for the dawn in this dirt room
in this shell shock scream hole
with its own wildlife
and its nature tourists seeking a thrill
she is there too
wearing her best and holding hands
with a ten ton gorilla
who wants to be dainty like her
the mayor and the townsmen gather
in the corner and in harsh whispers vote to stay out
all night and not eat their veggies
aint it just like life
we all want the other items on the menu
not the plate of slop we get served

she undresses the days events
and with its naked issues
makes points for moving far away
to some quiet place where she can be queen
and get all the treats she already has
aint it just like life
give up everything to get what you got

bright colours of thoughts
feathered into the blankest eyes
they diminish along the pathway
between spoken and heard
between felt and cried outloud with a rage of tears
she corners what she feels
and wrestles with its slippery torture test
to express even a peice of its vast horrible face
even a small portion of its library of secrets
she hates it
she hates him for leaving that suitcase of fear
that closet of humid mutating hard rancid evil touching memories
she begs in a soft scared whisper in her sleep
that someone please help
all I can do is wake her
and hold her
while we both cry
she for her broken life
and me for my inadequacy to help the woman I love

the essence of its cage bound in place by shadow
and sour the milk of reason with her poison eye         
she sends him a picture of her                                                          
join me here                                                    
                      
the polluted mind demands focus
he is pure now                                                          
the dawn is unfiltered              
and the scary voices are hushed by the awe                                          
the racing thoughts are soaked by the rain
and shivering hunched in the brick box                      
he awaits the power that              
perseveres through adverse and favorable alike                                      
he centers himself
but the voices creep back in on one by one
as the unfiltered dawn returns      
he runs outside trying to catch the author                
of the noise in his head                                          
make him cease this carnival of insanity                                                        
­this roadshow of the mad mad mind

he sleeps the hot silent day
in the brick box with the steel door
its safe there
the voices cant find him

as dusk settles like a layer of grey dust on the small
glass window set in the brick
his eyes come open like frightened small birds
desperate for escape from this narrow cage of a mind

they talk in quiet whispers            
better not let anyone know                                            
better not let anyone see                        
but you cant help laughing at the faces they make            
when the 'real' people arn't looking      
the things they do when the 'real' people wont know      

mud foot bare
in the greasy sun
fast load trace its birth in dust
the night is always full of echoes
so he only comes round in the day
where he can kiss the faded wall art
and wipe the tears away from his former years
with the music
the long and pure symphony of the souls
a simple phrase on the piano
how many souls like this are lost among us                                  
hidden by the natural appearance                        
he leans in and plants a soft kiss
on the image of her lips

darkness at the very edge
its bold
and far from silent
it has a vast sound at the verge of hearing
soft and insistent
clinging to you like a frightened child
you chase the source of light
seeking comfort in its warm familiarity
through the supermarket
where housewives steal trinkets of food
where men loose spare change
through the well traveled rail station
where men in long coats await the rain
where women of dire straights await rescue

clean the razors determinations
and know that the fine line reached
is the one between her mocking you
and the reality of your cold naked bleeding in the rain
no sweeping music can change the mistakes
no well placed words can undo the changes
and everyone may pretend not to see
but they all know
and they all lied

she awakens before dawn
standing at the kitchen table
holding a paper doll
inside she screams and screams
inside the tears are an ocean of death
but to the mute world
her stone gaze fixed out the window
that in her mind is forever as shattered as her
to a world that to her is forever winterbound as her cold heart
she walks into the depths of her home
neatly pressed in her grey dress
line perfect down to makeup
but there is a steady whisper of terror leaking out of her lips

darkness has many faces
hides in plain sight
in full on sunlight
has too many names to be recalled
its lusted for and held up in praise
but it is no hero to me

she is just one average face
just one average set of fingers
looking for a trigger
looking for a thing to bury herself and blade in
and regardless of what they say
she is my only hope
i cannot be the one to bear this burden anymore
i cannot carry this awful memory any further
i want to be rid of her and her kind once and for all

she stands in her silent dark bedroom
razor in her cold fingers
thin smile on her thin lips
waiting
shes waiting
but im never coming back
i will never open that door
never free her of this hell she created
if it was anybody else i might feel
anyone else it might matter
let her rot

the version of night shifts as each person
unfolds within mind what they see
it mutates as time proceeds
a contagion of the eye
makes her sad face regal with its pure and true
beauty clean line and side cast gnawing fear
makes her soft skin a sandpaper of insecurity's
and her sexuality a landmine filled no mans land
she moves restlessly in her seated position
spreading and folding herself
like a spastic lotus flower
like a wasp confused by butterfly's

the version of night shifts once again
and the two of you stand in the
narrow shadows at the edge of a vast
pitted concrete slab
the air is thick and greasy with tropical heat
she is ****
you cannot help but to reach over and touch
she only watches your hand
thin smile on her thin lips
inside your your separate minds
you each hold separate conversations silently
imagine the dreamlike responses
the version of night strains as she slowly
dresses and you silently walk
side by side into the the darkness
back to the noise room
back to the chair she cried in
back to the floor you feared

the version of night is fluid
like a infected river
it flows thru her veins as she
injects another dose of crying and coughs
breathing heavy
you sit cross legged at her feet
an apostle to the teaching that
beauty is no measure of destiny its only a means
a student of the humanities isolated and afraid
by a spastic lotus flower
a wasp confused by butterfly's

she batters down the defenses
contagion of perceive then process
that becomes reality governs her motive
it mutates as time proceeds
lies repeated become fact because they were spoken
so much they defied truths razor
fact becomes fiction
as truth is distorted in the crucible of
think think think think think
as truth is hammered clean of impuritys
and worked by the hands of the mind
into a better package
a more palatable lie

help me
help her
the night is unsympathetic
as she injects
cough
touch
sweat panting for abundant air
this is a killing cycle

a wicked thought in some dark corner
of the illustrious mind
round and round it spins
in the the background of all the sunshine days
benith the surface of all the joyous times
for all thouse years
like a cancer of the soul
like an apocalypse of the madness inside the sane mind
i have walked to the edge of the abyss
i have looked the beast in his dead eye
felt his cold hand in my heart
and i knew him
iv seen this and know it holds nothing for me

she slips into the street
a shadow that walks in the bright sunlight
and prays as she walks for a happenstance of providence
but even to mortals
her lips are stained with a tiny traces of blood
she is seen as a culprit
she devolved into her separate parts
and she never was right afterwards

like a small doll stuck on broken
her every day
her everything is a razor blade to you
but she only hears a symphony of color
she only sees a tragedy of tears
all shes known was the rat race
she aspires to nothing more

a wicked thought in the darkness
and inspite of asking that it delay its maniacal  desires
the illustrious mind bends in on itself
just because nobody can see
doesn't mean no-one knows
what is the hidden thing
of spirit and of mind

impossible nature of my being here
in this awful place
this dark harbor in shades of the unnatural misgivings
the crazy ones pace the room
in silent trek eyes nailed to floor
each step slowed by hungers of fortune
and the angst of regret
the impossible nature
of my being here is dictated by circumstance
by the romance of mistaking happenstance for providence
but i am making headway
at escaping
myself