nest occupied

hung on my face

(a doorknob)

of empty bird syndrome

just a-lookin for a cage



theres a bird occupied

sittin at the counter

of an espresso joint

tracing the branches

to come down



theres a wealth

of little migrations

that i call songs

(or windows to run into)

that might hit home

*

and

i dont stop chirping

when i hear them trains a comin

i dont stop singing

when theres thunder in the rain

i dont look for branches

when theres snowfall in the canyon

i just go on

lookin for a cage

virginia was a piece of mind

light as a feather

came down like a crime

virginia comes to sleep

but midnight comes

to my bed all the time

and i dare count

the hours mount

Just like this all the night.

hello skies

charcoal haired stewardess

i know you

the sun arrives over your shoulder

sending your hair

into maple and molasses

flames

just above ocean blue

and white tartan

this escapes you:

get out the lead, lover

but i’m occupied

like a green “IN USE”

bathroom door handle

i hear country music radio

white women singing Billy Joel

my heart turns gold

my veins, silverado

i know

there’s a highway in the air

and it’ll come alive

get out the lead, lover

get out the lead.

congratulations

i almost called you

out tonite

stomped your lungs out

like two helium balloons

you see

maybe you don’t

but you should see

i’m terribly excited

excited just to lose you

between useful heartbeats

and

with

a lucky couple

caroling through my mind

i consider it

why i sing

my front porch is a broken candelabra

lights that used to form a pattern

now waypoints for sore eyes to wander

in upheaval

there’s something in the driveway

if i ask nicely it’ll take us nowhere

every friday

and i run my hand along the wall fixtures

with the wall switches on

but still in the dark

maybe watch the strange weather effect panes of glass

and i do that monday tuesday wednesday thursday saturday

and sunday

sometimes i listen to the thing in the drive tick

never turn

if i need to get out

ya know

see ****

thats what i do

see ****

lots of it

two hearts

stampede through a china shoppe

like huge

huge like

looking up at the hoover dam

saying ****

****

is something that leaves my lips

when i can’t wrap my heart around

something impossible for my head

pronounced

probable

proust would say

“let us be grateful to people who make us happy

they are the charming gardeners who make our souls blossom. “

pruned

blooming

watered and spoken to

fed from the pail from the leak in the roof

to marcel, warmth

the proof