with yearning for a different life we leave ourselves behind
because the worries of the world way so heavy on our minds
my life has been a dance with the elegant summer air
and the smell of salt that lingered from the beach in my hair
a thousand different faces yet they stand out all so clear
I’d tuck away the places I wished I’d visited each year
if we all wrote down our dreams I wonder if we would remember
the way our eyes lit up when winter gave us the magic of December
before the bills and all the pills that we would have to take
before the smiles on our faces started to feel fake
our very first step, when we carried our own weight
our very first step, when we began to see the light of faith
the friends we’ve made and we’re still making
the advice from other that we had started taking
the brilliance of red and orange on the tree tops in fall
realizing how big we felt even though we were so small
the very first butterflies that fluttered within you
that came with the kiss that had always stuck with you
our memories of those who had left us behind
finding new life beyond the blue skies
with yearning for a different life we left ourselves behind
because the worries of the world were so heavy on our mind

the lady has me temporarily off the bottle
and now the pecker stands up
better.
however, things change overnight--
instead of listening to Shostakovich and
Mozart through a smeared haze of smoke
the nights change, new
complexities:
we drive to Baskin-Robbins,
31 flavors:
Rocky Road, Bubble Gum, Apricot Ice, Strawberry
Cheesecake, Chocolate Mint...

we park outside and look at icecream
people
a very healthy and satisfied people,
nary a potential suicide in sight
(they probably even vote)
and I tell her
"what if the boys saw me go in there? suppose they
find out I'm going in for a walnut peach sundae?"
"come on, chicken," she laughs and we go in
and stand with the icecream people.
none of them are cursing or threatening
the clerks.
there seem to be no hangovers or
grievances.
I am alarmed at the placid and calm wave
that flows about. I feel like a ***** in a
beauty contest. we finally get our sundaes and
sit in the car and eat them.

I must admit they are quite good. a curious new
world. (all my friends tell me I am looking
better. "you're looking good, man, we thought you
were going to die there for a while...")
--those 4,500 dark nights, the jails, the
hospitals...

and later that night
there is use for the pecker, use for
love, and it is glorious,
long and true,
and afterwards we speak of easy things;
our heads by the open window with the moonlight
looking through, we sleep in each other's
arms.

the icecream people make me feel good,
inside and out.

Early morning
before the sun,
I lay my head
no longer young.

Pushing for sleep,
but it is lost.
Cold *** weather
cookies been tossed.

Water glass
next to my head.
Yawning slowly,
the living dead

Sleep is distant
can barely see,
thinking of you
here next to me

Scratchy sheets
and lumpy bed.
Springs are poky
clothes been shed.

Take a pill,
take two more.
Go out to town
find a *****.

On the corner,
there she stands.
On broken glass,
and dented cans.

**** her once,
and then again.
Lay back down,
find sleep my friend...