a thousand small mechanics
of thinking
labour to bend my actions to
the will of the arbitrary world
plans mature and rot on the vine
the fetid odours of their decay
is focused by the summer emblazoned sun
she prunes the shaft and maintains the
brick and mortar of the family's tradition
such pride taken in century's
but such is folly illustrated by footprints
drunkenly sketched by predecessors
forgiving is her heart
the past melts into
a portrait of porcelain perfection
issued like decree by oil and canvass
she is a pile of frowns
as she paints a watercolour
of the house cat
it lounges near total abandonment of consciousness
licking itself in slow mental appeasement
of the same dire need that makes it chase its own tail
a thousand mechanics of thinking
their brawny limbs weary of
the attempt to teach
the fearless path
fall to slumber and dream sweetly of
fields of green and
vibrant promise

the distance runner
pockmarked by moral delemias
and riddled with horrible christmas thoughts
gasps for clean air by the dust laden causeway
a sewer pipe lets loose nearby
and in the summer night air
the soft sound of its water
eats at the mind
with its worm infested intents
he gathers such little strength and lurches forward
at uneven gait
his eyes wide in seeking
fortunes of night like the safe
beauty of streetlight
but only the graffiti laden concrete of the rivers road
greet his every wary footfall
the unutterable language of its scrawled messages
baffle his mind
something deep inside his ***** speaks to of
loose girls chewing bubble gum
and talking in mystical rhymes
seeking their own absolution in the comfort of
someone's arms
after a immeasurable distance he slows to a crawl
and falls to his beaten knees
he must pause this headlong flight
must face the  delemia of surrendering
give up to win
his rubber mouth repeals only the
best of his words
their soft blow to the iron grip of madness
is little more than whetting the whistler's  thirst for strife
so he tries to hold back his tongues footloose gambit
but failing he simply watches his words tumble misspent
to the dusty ground

she breaths
and the shadow of her hours
pass like rain
falling
shatter on the senses softly
like her words
they penetrate with such tender care
they swallow your heart with such slow and sweet thought
and she breaths
and you know she is near
you can feel the heat
you can sense the reality of her

she breaths
and in the exhalation gives life to the creatures
that haunt the dark places in each mans mind
the twisted thing that has no face
the thing that is all teeth
feeds on the soul
she breaths and the cold air is humbled by her presence
death fears her coming

everybody is chatting in the puzzle house
about her narrow mouth
and the spider she ate
her bent frame vomits sounds like pleasure or pain
slow open of her bluejean legs reveals nothing
but implies everything
he barks like a small dog
at the end of his mental leash
and he runs round in a quick circle and
squats before her spread and lets loose
wagging his virtual tail

the madmen run the place
and you can see it in their eyes
they write their version of history
on the walls
nobody can read it
sounds like gibberish
and thats one of the requirements of the job
is to be able to confuse
while looking dignified
at the puzzle house door

the puzzle is the mind
and nothing is more puzzling to me
than what she had in mind bringing me here
its a fun place
with books and games
laughter and joys
medications and dark nurse's
filled with murderous intents
escape the puzzle house if you dare

gather your faces and arm your footmen
there are challenges to the rule you lain down
with the lambs and wolves of debated thought
gather all your strength child
there is a hard road made of fragile glass
and my tread aint as light as when i was
the impressionable boy you lead astray
dont wish to shatter anyone's world
but somethings got to give like its freaking christmas baby
and its clear that you feel
like your the freakin princess gettin that pony
******* better fork that **** over but with a freakin quickness

like the folded page
creases run thru your hollow eye
as dust gathers like a skull in a window in the mind
intricate lines flow with the song
but these are not the words written there
these are the ones crafted in the hardbake
of hells only road
of pergatorys only path
you know that you allways leave places like this
heavy with profits
so dont hand me your sob stories
just whip out your cannon and spoon
lets get this over with
and no...sweetheart i believe i will pass on
a roll in the sheets with you

the river of my thought
leaks at the edge of my eye
and travels its own narrow mile
before it too comes to believe that she must
let to run free
cause there is nothing but desert
in this land of sea and sand
nothing but the faces of starving poets and there threadbare children
nothing but toys you purchased a week ago
in the basket for return get up the green for your poisons
your dope dreams killing my hope

up ontop of a milk crate
standing in a three am parking lot
serenading while
she sat on the curb smoking a rolled cig
laughing with a sparkle in her eye
later when the night sets us drifting
the quiet back streets
walking hand in hand
thick and thin
till the stars are washed away
till the beautiful summer days have faded away
this is our time so lets not waste it on words
step outa them jeans babe
show me some of thouse tender moves
show me that tattoo
and she just smiled and said
sure nuff
sure nuff

the night in yonkers
and it was raining cold
outside the beaten up old window
chipped green paint lay round its edges
always wondered why no-one cleaned that up
but there were deeper things in that home
she eyed the door with a rancid thought
and said that she had failed to fire
but would not elaborate
only smiled in a wicked way
and lit another cigarette
that glowed like a evil eye in the semi dark
of new yorks night
the ripped up mattress had holes
and stains that made my skin crawl
but she leaves little choice
sleep next to her or get the freak out the door
so we lay there all night talking in random ways
bout things cant even remember now
just remember how soft she was
and the tattoo on the back of her neck
how it tasted sweaty
and then we did it
and how she tasted tired
but she was so good and kind
and the rain never did stop that night
it just kept slipping down to its doom just like her
just kept going on and on
never paused to consider
but that was just her way
she was never good with people
come on babe you shoulda stayed home
never shoulda gone onto yonkers
never shoulda found yourself on the wrong end of that
it never did stop raining that night
really hope she made it home

the villain of the shadows cringes
and cries out as hard things do when they
behold themselves in such places
as in the true light of the fair maidens eyes
mercy is often found there
compassion and love too
but what he see's is a sale to the highest bidder
he steals away with the key to her heart
steals away with the treasure trove of
a fair maidens hopes and dreams

before the dawn can reveal his track
to the lawman who now follows in slow pursuit
he gathers himself and his plunder and sets off at a dead run
the lawman is a cold customer from times gone past
and he knows that twain shall never meet lest there be blood spilt
knows that the cold hand of justice serves none but its own
it lives to see others die
so he sets off at a dead run
as dead as his soul seems to be
as all his days have been
running from all his yesterdays
at a dead run
as dead as the lawman's heart

he stops for the night in the empty wash of an old stream
makes a fire by the water worn rocks
entranced by the lines of their ancient and dignified past
it troubles him so
he looks upon his ill gotten treasure
looks upon the fair maidens heart trove
and for the first time sees the beauty there
for the first time he sees what compassion's gentle hand looks like
the firelight jumps and leaps like dancers
he lay down and dreams of ceremonial dances and golden idols
dreams of a people for whom riches are in the heart
dreams he lived as one of them rich with love and happiness
he wakes with tears in his eyes

the lawman spends his night tracking slowly westward
he will not rest or sleep till he gets his man
he never dreams of anything but the cold hand of unjust justice
no compassion no soul to be tainted by hope

the villain of shadows begins to hear echoes in his mind
things that remind him of summer breeze and a girls pretty smile
her hand in his in the pouring rain
ages ago before darkness consumed him
now he begins to see a new path for him
if he can escape the lawman
now hes at a dead run to stay alive
now hes at a dead run to return the fair maidens treasure
if even a villain of shadows
can be redeemed
perhaps i may find some small coin of hope
but its hard to do at
a dead run

the moonlight is soft
as it reaches down through the time stained window
and pools on her bare skin
i trace the edge of her
with a fingertip
so as not to wake her
kissing her softly and tell her in voice
just above her ear soft and careful
that i love her
and she is the center of my world

im her moon looking down on her beauty of creation
with a love that shines in the darkest night
with a hope that is like
a picnic in a summer meadow
cool crisp wines for your thirsty heart
and things to sate your body's hungers

i once stood here with a broken love
and a road that was just this side of sadness
and she choose to follow us down from denver's mountains
and in coming here to sea and sands
saved me in many ways

i wake her
to make love to her again
and she wakes slow with a smile
silly man of course take me take me take me
be drunk with my treasures all through your days
all through the nights
drink me now and let the love flow
take me
like moonlight shaving off the hours
like the world pulling us round
like the light in your eyes
f**k me silly
the moonlight is soft
as it reaches down through the time stained window
and pools on her bare skin
as her sweat from our labours sparkles
i kiss her ear softly sweetly my love sleep sweetly