Wednesday, March 26, 2014

Curator, Tell Me How Much This Is (2014)



My eyes are dry like a tongue after a glass of red wine
Darting from one face to the next, hoping I can watch one melt away
Just this once, let someone else handle all the stares
All the sets of faces with concern and sadness and unprecedented advice
After all, we’re all adults here, we all paid for the tickets
Now give us a real fucking show so we can finally go home and sleep
And talk of other things than that train wreck of a person
Barrel-rolling through life, a hurricane of self-loathing and regret
Certainly we’ve earned the right to ridicule someone else’s mess

Keep your rags stained with all that runny mascara
My eyes are dry, like a fucking desert underneath the highest fucking sun
It’s noon in the middle of another god damn summer, I’m busy bleaching bones
And counting the crawling critters slowly trudging through sand
You’ve got your designs set, anyone who knows the ritual can see
The routine play out like we’re in the Peanut Gallery, throwing stones
Yes, but also waiting for another shoe to drop so we can restart
Like a factory fucking reset on life, right out of the god damn box

But these eyes, these eyes are the wastes, staring out over ruins and ruins
Piles of shit that I’ve stacked so high, I couldn’t begin to climb out
I’d stab myself and tumble down to be another lump of discarded crap
Skeletal remains of the frames of infamy years after the buzz had died down
And the religious site where all the rites of sacrifice were burned on wooden altars
It’s all fucking ash now, all pieces of dead things in the wind, blown apart
By the invisible hand of change, putting its meddling fucking fingers in everything

Monday, May 6, 2013

Cool/Calm (2013)



I hide little shreds of myself in the folds and on the sheets of your bed
And hope that it’s enough to let you know that I’ll always have a piece of
Me there to keep you company when you have those dreamless nights
Maybe something of mine lingers in your mind and when those fears
Come around and pull you deep in the throes of sleep you’ll see me and
The wait won’t feel so long, but so far the days pass by more quickly for
Me and I’m still minutes to the hour and wishing I could hold my hand out
And press the fingers of time to my will and I would speed them up and
Slow them down all according to the time that I get to stand beside you

In my head, I feel this bed underneath me in a darker room without second
Story windows and without clothes tossed about the floor and my door is
Always shut to keep me trapped to myself, all by myself while the television
Hums out tunes in the cadence of conversation all rehearsed and forced
Into fantastic dramatics with a punch-line where the audience laughs and laughs
And I’m laughing with them, feeling with them, anything to ignore the gap
I feel growing inside of me like the distance of miles of dotted interstate lines
Where’s this technology to help me jump the hole in time and find you smiling

We wrap our words around each other like sweaters for the comfort of knowing
That we’ll be here still when the days fall to the countdown and we’ll be down for
The count, wasting away in the early hours of the day feeling much better than
Before when the anxious anticipation built up like Legos waiting to be destroyed
As our insides emerge from the sea just off the coast of Japan and make an angry
Hand to slap apart the pieces of the wait into chaos as we lay all tangled up in grey
All tangled up in maroon, all tangled up in clouds and a loud, grinding bed frame
We take a moment to trade things to say and I can’t help letting my roots grow down
And touch the floor, when before I never thought I’d find anything worth the trouble

Wednesday, May 1, 2013

Drink Deep, My Subtle Thoughts (2013)



There’s a sting in my eyes like the itch of the future
That comes spilling out in silken words spinning webs
I’ve been trapped by the spell all disheveled and waiting
Wanting to feel this maelstrom roll right over me
High winds tossing hair and stealing air with every look
That I glance your way, I see your big doe eyes and
I’m more the deer in headlights with a smile and biting lip

These jagged cliffs spray the smell of sea salt up into my face
I’m to blame for the balance that teeters under my feet
The waves are yelling something obscene and in this dream
I feel the hand at my elbow, I feel the softness of your breath
When the way you say things combs up my back with a
Gentle cascade of verbs and nouns and emphasized adjectives
And suddenly I’m firm in my resolve, I’ll less a companion
To dance with this anxious feeling in my belly and this calming
Move keeps my feet rooted and keeps my hand in yours

The tumble of the falling trees with their somber echoes in the canopy
Shooting splinters under hooves, these are the red woods that
Jimmy Stewart kissed Kim Novak in and they were hidden deep inside of me
So to see someone so familiar running through the brush with laughing
Red hair, I keep my heartbeat steady and my hands stoic at my side
The sun splits through the leaves and sticks to my clammy face
But all too real, I feel the sweat gather on my arms and legs and
Smell myself turning under the sheets, my eyelids are bright and hot
These blinds keep nothing out and pull me from my dreams, but
Better yet is you’re just as real to me here underneath the bed sheets

Monday, April 29, 2013

Velour Shade (2013)



Cheers to this dark room, quiet and warm and calm
A glow under the door from the streetlight on the corner

Shifting shades in the odd edges of the eyes, they subside
As a rattle-lunged cough scatters them like roaches in light

No buzz from the bed but the head still keeps spinning
Pillows like clouds muttering some sort of conspiracy

Cheers to this last night, full of whispers and shivers from the cold
An icy mist against the window puts spider webs in the glass

And like wretched, boney fingers they spread and spread out
Reaching out toward freedom like ghosts trapped in skin

The slight wind howls in the splinters of foggy morning light
From the flickering street as the concrete exaggerates a sigh

Cheers to the midnight that crawls on hands and knees
Stretching a pale arm before the other, breathing slowly

A dark trail of oil in its wake, slimy as a sweating snail
Nails on blackboard dragging the weight of bones and shadow

The patters of breath that hang in the chest shallow out
Glass fingers become ice and the cracks run along white knuckles

Wednesday, April 24, 2013

Scurvy Sea of Seams (2013)



Knot and knots and anxious thoughts
All bottled up and lost to the tides that
Came in cold and low humming sweet
Songs of sirens and bitter melodies

We tied the strings that popped in the
First high wind and rendered themselves
All but frays in the furnace of the day
That dragged on and on and on and on

The kites we made with our shaking hands
To spell out words we couldn’t rightly say
In the sky somewhere high enough for
Other eyes that come on prying by

But for the life of our salty tongues
Nothing but coughs and sighs could
Escape our wicked mouths dry with
Death and regret and oceanic laments

Let the wind whisper the eulogy quietly
While our eyelids grow heavy and weary
And sink like the ragged bow of a wooden
Ship into the dismal and salty deep blue dark