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

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

his mind a shatterbox of edges
his thoughts weary and dull
limp along like thorazine smiles
appearing one after another to be following him down the hall
begging him for semblance of inner peace
stop chasing me he whispers mock harshness to the darkness
hoping to frighten the thoughts away
he closes his door shutting out the dark hallway
and escapes to the exact center of light in his safe warm room

mind a shatterbox
full of slow motion detonations of thought and flashes of fragment memory
scary things in his head he keeps wrapped in wool sweaters and mittens
like little children sent out to play in the bitter cold
their voices scratchy with distance and time laughing at him
soon enough with runny noses they go home for cocoa and cookies
leaving him in the exact center of the room
as alone as he has been all night
all of his life
in the exact center of nothing
a shatterbox filled with mystery things
a broken man and his broken mind

he opens the door to the hallway
and with almost gentle grace steps slowly into the darkness
whispering fast prayers to protect from the fingerless hands
that reach but never grasp from the shadows
he moves up the hall to the cold floor bathroom
the chipped tiles are filthy with the tread of feet from up the hall
all the working men from the
burning fields and the crop to be harvested
their language is a song that he cherishes
but their eyes see too much of him so he hides from them

the night wears on as it always will
he repeats to himself that dawn cant be too far off
he only has to survive the silence of night for a little longer
survive the scary things just a little longer
his mind a shatterbox of broken things
protecting the world from the creature within

dawn has come and the new neighbor taps at the door
with the meal he was waiting for
he pulls the door open slowly and without a revealing word
takes the hot food and cakes
darkness is gone to sleep somewhere
hopefully far far  away
shatterbox filled with sleepy things
now hunger isnt a companion

*i knock at his door at dawn
and slip the bag of food into him as light
begins to creep into the world
this is his world
each new neighbor passes the torch to the next
'make sure the old man eats
the mans son pays the bill at the store
and they leave the meals at the door
but the old man almost never leaves that room'
i wish i could do more for him
but they tell me that he is happier alone
i never have been happier alone

leaving my destitute pocket
filled with her own dusty words
she is a  student of the unnatural behaviors
so its no surprise to find her on hands and knees as
she rakes the barren carpet between us
for the scrapmetal shavings of my many colored beast
as it sweats profusely in the close quarters screamfest of my mind

personally i give the carpet a once over for conversational pieces
a resplendence knight of such shining armor
i search for deeper meaning in the darkest depth of her laundry bin
cause know i could just as easy be the reviled stain
as i am the cardboard king
my broke down chevy just another hunk of detroit steel
so she and i wrestle into the night over the tea kettle cast off's

lay me down by the river
where the wild boys go
where the summer birds sing sweetly
in the thicket and in the sun
while the waters flow swift and clean
cool to the hand dipped in by traveling man
close your eyes neath shady tree on the sandy banks
let yourself slip into thinking
of the long ago
of the far away
the remembered faces come back like a tender song only the heart knows
the remembered years that fall silent like snow in the hearts darker places
these strings that bind you to your desires
are one in the same as thouse that tie you to your fate
kind or cruel

i promise not to bury my bones
till we are good and done with em
i promise not to wear my heart on my sleeve for
every skirt that skitters past me
promise not to be so blind to the hand that holds mine in the dark
promise not to think its too late
promise to believe in the process
believe in the dream
promise not to hold myself responsible for what
i couldn't have foreseen or done a ****** thing about
promise not to grieve for her
to remember that i'm just a human man after all
i promise that and more
if you'll just promise me one thing
don't leave me sitting here all alone
just hold my hand
keep me company in the cold night

the sun setting on the high mountain passes
brilliant colours in the sharp cold air
he rode slowly along the path
holding the reigns in one hand
the other resting on his colt revolver
his dark coat pulled up
covers his face
from the biting cold
some hours from now
further down the trail he will rest a bit
before pushing on
make the rio grande before the week is out
make the border and freedom before
the hangman can claim him
he shifts his weight on the saddle and
his horse flicks a worried ear
his appaloosa was his friend
too many miles shared and they had come to understand
and know eachother too well
from the desert towns dry and bitter
to the rain swept mountaintops of colorado
from saloons and dancing girls
to the long hard chase of the lawman following
had seen more miles than care to think
such a sweet tale
such adventure as he had dreamed of
when he was a boy
robbing trains and gunfights with bad man
but mostly he thinks of his country rose
and her little house near topeka
and how she said that there was always be
room for him in her bed and heart
with the hard won smile she gave him
rough round the edges but she was soft in every way
that a road weary man like him could hope for
thought of her now
all these miles away
as the sun sets on the high mountain passes
so deep with winter snows
so silent under crisp moonlight
her face there in his heart
as he drifts through the darkness
drifts through the years and miles
forever more
one hand on the reigns
the other on his colt revolver
some men were born never to rest
born never to know a home