Distracted by a wisp of clouds,
I find myself on this lonely shore,
In distant hawks I soar vicarious,
wheeling through white powder,
Showers of droplets mix with salted tears
Watching all the years run past like sprinting deer
How they flew, far and near, to here, in quiet repose

It's a hard thing when they want to skyline you
The ones you were meant to trust
Told to trust
They burnt you just for the fun of it
Scraped your down to a skin
Some lobotomized form of the former self
All the wealth in the world couldn't change it
Maybe that is the explanation for my derangement
Estrangement from reality, duality of sanity
The man in me says I need to do better
But I tow myself down, into the seaweed and mud
Into the rotting kelp sanctuaries of self produced failure
Pulling the dry pills off your tongue
Rubbing the morphine into your gums
Picking you up off the carpet, but you smiled
Smiled and looked me in the eye  
I will remember that always, how I carried you,
to the van in a white bag
Cutting your last lock of hair, walking down the street, weeping, please bring your children inside
They don't want to see this

Pouring myself out of an empty bottle
Pooling between the weeds
Soaking into stone, utterly alone

Night time comes and we check the locks
Draw all the blinds, set back the clocks
The only stars out drip dimly through

It's late, or early, I lose track
Newport light right from the pack
Burn a resolution into your palm

They talk of revolution like it's a song
Sing along, memorize the lyrics
Spit it to the rhythm of gunshots we're hearing

Weeds growing in my garden
Fighting to die, wilting dry
Why even bother

Speaking into the speaking stone
Listening to the listening tree
Breaking the breaking bone

Half empty green bottles smashed to sharp emeralds
Cans crushed into half stars
Passing cars like comets

In the dark place we find each other breathing
Console me with your tears
Bleed the last drop dry

In my cypress root home, it's slow water here
Red dots on my ears, no current, slow
The river flows, but I'm accustomed
My little root home will hide me
Moving in secret, quietly
Fanning my nest violently
Under tree swimming tiredly
They came with rods and hooks,
bent on their cruelty
Pulling me out of my river,
into their gaseous sea

Burning down another menthol candle
What vein is better than the throat
Pour your poison into me
Grapple with the loose looted copper of my brain
Burn telegraphed tears into my artifical arteries
Burn your green hexagon in a glass pipe
Watch these clouds speak their native tongue
Blue skies crush you in their tide
Cactus growing out your eyes

Flies on the lip of my coffee cup, dancing with their sick, fat, bodies
They're on my legs, in my hair, stuck in my imagination like gum to shoe
I can't stand to look at them, dancing in the air, landing with no care, putrid
Wipe the crap out of the corners of my eyes, out of the crevasse of my head
Empty empty empty
I somersault from the summit, crack back on every cornice
Fall where every wild thing will find me, bury me with their teeth, a proper burial
The flies will then come, even though they were not invited