Grape vine held out her soft hands
Red pine bow down and hold hands
Will they care not my shy look?
Love in dark woods that thrive lands.

Ode to the road.

See you and your rivered mind.
Sought out in cyan.
And cry for the drift in your eye.
Made for.
The groove.
The tremolo in your pace.
Rose hue to your face.
And the sea to your shirt.
The one you got in Olympia.



Garrett Johnson.

Goodbye.

Fall.
Sidewalk.
Streetlamp.
Hands held.
Old leaves.
New sounds.
I fell.
In.
Those eyes.
Those eyes.
Those eyes.



Garrett Johnson

Give me a place to put myself
I await on a storefront shelf
Give me a sole to lace with mine
The one for whom my heart doth pine

I miss the face that I know not
I'm blue like a forget-me-not
Just thinking about you
Wondering what you do

I love your eyes
Your hand in mine
I hate our goodbyes
And waiting for signs

You are a vine, and I am your rose
Loving you wholely, right down to my toes

I don't know who you are
But you cannot be far
I will know you someday
At least, that's what I pray

Paper rats in the walls.

& Like the life previous.
I sense them once more.
Clawing at the inside of my brain.
Turning.
Everything.
But the floor.
They wine in cancerous heat upon my door.
& Leave my wall into a galaxy of a corpse.



Garrett Johnson.

Fell for pine eyes,
Dressed in red, my sorrow,
Oh stricken down thy arms and thighs,
Never forget i'm the pine in his eyes.

A pine forest is the hand,
The soul of the palm fans out in fingers
Like the clayey striations of the sun.
The forest has no sound but the bonebreast
Wandering round of a similar hand,
All but shut now except for the unspoiled nest
Of browning needles and the ancient realmless mound of love.

Razor on the bathroom sink and the smell of pine and aftershave
Calloused hands
Dirt fingernails
You packed and formed the soil like clay
Like paint
You were an artist, silent in the morning
Coffee before work
One beer after
One beer after and a warm dinner she made
Pine and aftershave
on the stairs
on the carpet
on the carpet on the stairs
Lean in
Lean in, kids
Lean in and I’ll tell you about them
You said,
You are an artist,
Silent and coffee in the morning
Loud and beer on the stairs,
on the carpet in the afternoon
Leather seat
Newspaper dogear
Brewers turned on
In the leather seat,
‘Turn it up,
They’re winning!’
They’re winning
They’re winning
Screen porch
Wooden door
Screen porch through the wooden door
Sitting
Bumblebee Boompa
Bumblee Boomps
In the garden
On the sink
In the kitchen
On the stairs
In the living room
On the porch
You are an artist
Silent in the morning
Loud
Loud
Loud in the afternoon
and winning