I was locked up for a few days one time.
Why isn't important. I was ready
to beat my head bloody against
the bars to sleep.
If I had wings I would
have flown spectacularly
across the cell and smashed
my body dead through the bars.
Pick a mood and place:
Mojave desert. California.
Hot days and cold nights. I like extremes.
Sand wherever you look and imagine the
power of a windstorm at midnight.

Circumstance:
I'm tired, been driving all day and
into the dark with sand blinding
me so I can barely follow the road.
I see a sign. Oasis Motel. I stop.
Vacancy yes. I drop my bags in the
room. A sign warns  "look for scorpions
before taking a shower".  OK.

Truth:
I'm moving cross country from
Seattle to Nashville. I'm skipping
out on an unpaid bill. A promise
of marriage. The object of my
desire lost her luster over time.
An oft told story in my biography.

Ending:
Why can't I stay together with
one woman like my dad?
60 plus years!
I wish in the morning I could walk
into a different life where I'm
some kind of normal.
The winds died down.
I hope the gunshot is not too loud.
We Poets Chase the Same Sorrows

  Broken hearts. Miseries of the worst imagined!
  Childhoods Dickens would embrace. We are all
  led to a slaughter to appease the poets' needs.
  Happiness sacrificed for an eternal poetic line.
There's a small frightened boy who is me.
He thinks no one can ever really love him.
I'm now a big frightened man who is me.
I think no one can ever really love me.
Once I was White Hot

  I could melt a thousand suns.
  Set fire to every heart ever.
  Make differences when and where.
  Now I'm a mere cinder of myself.

  It's just the way life changes. We
  cool with age. Fires burn out when
  they're own heat destroys them.
  We all enjoy our day in the sun.
Oh. My. God.

   My wife walks into my cave. Sober.
   Big mistake. I'm in my cups. She asks
   a simple question. I think I answer,
   but apparently all I do is sluuuur.

   She calls 911 thinking I'm having a
   stroke. I try to assure her I'm fine.
   All she hears is "guark, moda tempa".
  Fleck. We're going to look like morons.
This Movie Never Ends

  I've been playing my part the best
  I can but it's take after take and I
  want to go home and be a child again.
  I want to live in Greenhills Ohio and
  play with all the neighbor kids and
  explore the woods and build kid homes
  in the tall grass and kiss Susan Tucker
  and feel my ears get warm. Life should
  always feel this good.

  Christmas eve at 6 Alcott Lane. Dinner
  and we kids clean up the kitchen and
  gather in the living room to watch
  Christmas specials on TV and say good
  night so Santa can deliver the goods.
  We gather at 5 am at the stair top and
  pick one to wake mom and dad to officiate
  the opening of presents. It proceeds. We
  are stunned. Life should always be this good.
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