this floor feels like a raft
& i am a castaway
in an ocean of empty bottles
"don't worry wilson -
i'll do all the paddling"*
wading through the night
looking for morning's land
the soothing, softness of sand
i still feel you,
like phantom limbs
clinging to my hips
like the tide to the beach
like the smoke to my lungs
beer & cigarettes heavy on my breath
dread weighing heavy on my chest
last night,
my fantasy you fell out of love
with my saintly me.

We were running together, side by side
Slapped by fat droplets of midnight shower
Which burst upon touching our pale foreheads
And streamed as tears down the sides of our cheeks
We drank in the presence of each other
As the wilted trees around us, the rain
Letting the poison ivy scratch our legs
While we escaped from those in people's words
With all the venom coursing through our veins
You untied your hair; it streaked behind you
Blacker and more beautiful than the night
I still remember - I can still hear it
The way our ragged voices would unite
As we sat upon the wet, shining grass
Tilting our heads back and howled at the moon

Chicago, where the rails become streets,
where the wind winds around corners to double tier trains that rain down with thunder below
cloudbursts of snow and slow traffic

Chicago, where cars and trucks stop at lights on the bridges, resting wheels on wet tarmac and men pass by wearing cagoules and flat caps: bohemian grandparents on northern fronts.

Chicago, where every building is a flat iron or a pencil windowed and widowed of safety net architecture,I look up from the window and flutter as she does, the suicide shipwreck standing atop a roof looking up and falling down, into river and rail track wakes.


If the dial-up allows it and this note finds its way through the orchestra, let me tell you this:

*You look lovely in your flower tattooed white dress.
I shall write about  you until you read about yourself and smile, the rest has
been thrown into the wind and has come to settle in the tidal flow, sit tight and see where it goes.

Day One on my meds
nothing has changed yet, but
I'm optimistic

Silence off shore,
another calm night.
Waves caress the beach,
moon shines down bright.

Stars glow and gleam,
down on the beach.
Sky black as coal,
as the waves continue to roll.

Just another night,
out on the coast.
Just another night,
at the place I love the most.

Sand slowly squeezes,
in between my toes,
as I follow the shoreline,
where ever it goes.

Seagulls screech a song,
of storms long ago.
Stories so aged and old,
only peg-legged sailors know 'em.

Just another night,
out on the coast.
Just another night,
at the place I love the most.

Lighthouse in the distances,
shining strong and bright.
Washes crash into the rocks,
colliding as they fight.

There's sea salt in the air,
in my mouth and my hair.
Sand is everywhere,
but I don't even care.

It's just another night,
out on the coast.
Just another night,
at the place I love the most.

Just another night,
just another night,
out on the coast.

In your world there are magnetic lines that draw your needle North. Polaris and the Great Bear guide you home from clear moonlit skies, so that you may stumble into your hearth at night. I was told that in my heart was a compass rose, with a needle like yours, pointed and true. But my directions are undifferentiated. Ursa hides behind dark clouds and the magnetosphere is interrupted by the fiercest of solar winds. The needle fights to find North caught in an endless loop. The way home is unknown. But somewhere I know you are waiting for me to arrive, for the storms to pass. You would wait a thousand years. And though my compass is broken, I am reaching out my arms to find my way through the brush. And someday I will find you.

I met a genius on the train
today
about 6 years old,
he sat beside me
and as the train
ran down along the coast
we came to the ocean
and then he looked at me
and said,
it's not pretty.

it was the first time I'd
realized
that.