I fear the ocean.
Fear the lack of life
Fear the unknown sameness below
Fear for myself, you see I've
Given up on having company
I'll sail alone for a while
But I'll need water sometime
Even though there's water for miles.

Someone come aboard then.
It's awfully lonely here.
It's hard to sail alone you see
And I haven't gotten over my fear,
Fear of sinking some day
Fear of waking up dead.
When the ocean finally swallows me
And overtakes the resistance in my head.

Until then I'll resist.
I'll hold out for my crew.
Someday we'll sail together.
Just.... Me and you.
Yes we'll set sail for places
That we've never seen before.
So come aboard my friend,
There's life on that distant shore.

Plot a course through downtown doors
then drift along the concrete shores
of asphalt oceans navigated
          under stars
          imitating
     broken curbside glass--
     over crunching gravel miles
          measured in half-hours
and meted out in heavy, fogging breaths
          and squinting, midnight eyes...

Counted out the blocks, counted steps
and concrete squares by metered
three-four thoughts dancing across
     reflected skylines, just behind the eyes.

Each step's a held breath,
each footfall a prayer on crumpled paper,
each set of shoulders, a hanger for...

                                        coats are homes
                                             for hands
                                    rolling up in pockets
fishing for some solid anchor,
sinking into years of walks and silent words like these.

                                   * * *

Listing hard, adrift for years
     water-logged and pocked--
                    no anchor--
shredded sails and leaning masts
                    tell stories
                  of deck fires:
                   leaping rats,
             and charred strakes

Clear deck,
               empty hold,
                              abandoned helm.
                     this coat's Atlantic fog.
Frayed rigging like cobwebs stretch
          down and across
like lines on faces aged by the frost
          on midnight walks.

Strike the colors, mate...
Admit you're lost.

my strings are broken
and my heart is out of tune
so don't let me go tonight
maybe tomorrow, in the light of day,
i'll be able to mend myself
if not, set me sail on a paper boat
down an open stream so i may close

Sometimes the sway feels like marching
Marching like I’m dreaming
While sleeping with the wind
Upon a sailing, swaying sea.

                                                  These dreams carried me here
                                                  Fleets of souls past
                                                  Lost in my sail boats

These dreams become my home
Because the horizon is gone
And the sun is night,
The moon and stars my life, my love.

I may not know where I’m going
But I feel this forward rise and fall
And the march in my heart
Drums with a knowing beat, beat, beat.

Success swims beneath these bodies of water
The air stirs my hair and soul
Lifting me above unknowns
To a place, I’m taking myself, really slowly.

I sailed you
Like an ocean.
And you were
As blue,
As deep,
As dangerous.


— Eleanor

I've given birth to many things
Cloudy nights, slanted rays
Set ways, uneven days-
Wet it, let it
Permeate its hues-
Like rock 'n' roll
from the womb of the blues

I got a whiskey-drinkin' woman
She waits for me around the bend
Starts harvesting the plants
Now, whenever I drop in
We both play mute, 'cause we know
Where glowing fingers of the fire
play blown wood, like a piano

I've given birth
to birds and snails
Solar systems
that have failed
Let it pour, let it roar
and pay its dues
Like rock 'n' roll
from the fertile
womb of the blues