She flapped & flapped her broken wings at the edge of Lover's Leap.
He couldn't decide whether to take a job washing high-rise windows or rob a 7-11
It was about that time simultaneous sightings of the Virgin were reported in Plaquemines & Orleans. God dressed in drag, ordered bloody marys for the house & was known to the regulars as Miss Katrina.
Meanwhile, in a barber shop in Des Moines, the barber snips away, asking too many questions.
"I used to live in the Big Apple; it's rotten to the core, he gripes.
I'll tell you who the devil is: The son of a bitch who owns your debt."
She pawned her wings for a few bucks then went speeding through red lights laughing.
He got a job for life: forever winding the clock chained to his wrist.
Sits in a chair with the legs always about to give way:
"I used to be bad now I'm just no good."
On the wall of his cell somebody wrote: "feels like there's some fool bird always pecking away at what's left of my heart."
At the end of the day the barber sweeps the hair from the floor,
Unaware that he is sweeping the past into the future.
"I used to think I was gonna live forever
Now I don’t know if I can make it through the night."
Emily, tell me
All about the growing pall
Upon a hillside
In leaves of grass abide
Why we rise to fall
Mary, go round
Love’s season unbound
Though lost on you & the road you are
With none but fool’s luck
I found my black star
In a blue summer sky. Will she
Come by fall, then?
Lover, kill me
There’s someone to tell you lies about now
Turn your heart-sleeves inside out let your petals fall to ground
From a twisted branch the warbler cries
Old widow laughs & casts her one good eye
Spring foreshadowed, magnolia blooms
It's bad luck to see the bride too soon
On winter nights we drank the wine
After hours but before its time
A parlor game, a waltz, a kiss
Each love story begins like this
A word with which every other rhymes
How could I’ve misread the signs?
Your ma never told you all she knows about men
Now love has come to play the fool again
Pa pa pa pa pa pa pa….
Young soldier calls, wild rose in hand
Your pa never told you he’s but half a man
Sharp thorn pricks him through the glove
Old Tray aroused by the smell of blood
Fool for love waiting in the parlor
Mustache, grin, your gentleman caller
A face made gruesome by a scar
A kiss above the hand in mime
Speaks of fortune & coming war
Heavy boots cross the floor in time
The final sound of a closing door
A dark maid wipes the muddied floor
Pa pa pa, pa pa pa ….
Magnolia tree, Magnolia tree
Why does she drop so many leaves?
A world weary widow sweeps out the doorway
Smell gutter leaves, get a rush in the chill
A boy who keeps pigeons leans over the roof
Root, branch and leaf: a suicide in the seed
Every day is spinning wheels, piano scales, digging holes
And all night long someone pacing the floor above
The seasons four but there’s always one more
Ride a clock read a bike drink a paper wind a cup
The soul pushing hard against the bones
Broken glass in the picture frame
You can’t look away from the photograph
Now there's just a wall where a window should be
I'm lost & ask an old man for direction
A gust of wind comes up out of the blue
Rains fall, pigeons scatter. I feel an ache
from my tooth down to the sole of my shoe
Listen little bride you can hide your eyes but still be seen
Listen through the open wound that sings life is but a dream
Listen now it whistles like a bird inside a train
Listen hear a stray dog limps & drags a master's chain
Whispers, hushed laughter, secret language, hidden room
That’s our love: a game
I wouldn’t call it love; no, I wouldn’t call it that
Any more than I’d call a burnt out light bulb a sleeping bat.
Such things cross your mind half awake at the shaving mirror
But with a razor at your throat, your head gets clearer.
She looks bored, a little sadistic, in her stupendous store-front pose.
Cocktail dress, fur, bikini; each day is just a new change of clothes.
I’m down on Sunset & Vine; I’m playing my part.
LA is for dreamers; don’t you know we invented the heart.
She gives me a Hollywood kiss in the supermart aisle
As if the whole world were watching her testify at a trial
Of a good man gone wrong, he never meant to hurt no one.
& after all, ladies & gents of the jury, 'twas an unloaded gun.
I need distraction from my distractions, oh ya, that’s what I need.
A shaving cut reminder there’s still blood to let. Let it bleed!
Too many corners in this room, she said. Sweep some light in with a broom.
So many corners in your head, she said. Look what’s trapped inside his web!
It gets in your head! It gets inside your head!
Don’t fuck with my head! Do not fuck with my head!
So many ways to play indoor games. Kick your shoes off from the bed. Bite my nails down to my soul Open all our windows underground.
She gets in your head! She gets inside your head!
Don’t fuck with my head! Do not fuck with my head!
I’m writing War & Peace; it’s a book about spiders in top hats & capes dancing at the ball with masked men. Don’t know who I am, how, what, why, when.
She’s got a thing about spiders. We’re animals driven mad by our wounds. If you can shame it, you can tame it. We’re animals tamed by our wounds.
She's dedicated; she's designated herself my heart's sole mourner.
But who’s gonna love my dark corners?
Keep humming that tune--it’s such a stupid thing--while I zip up the back of your new old dress.
My palms are sweaty! Can you hold my hand? Toss the keys into the fish bowl. Leave the front door open.
Let’s go out & get lost, get drunk on all those little bottles of booze we got from the airlines.
They fit in the hole in the pocket of this rain coat made for two that’s never seen better weather--if you like dismal weather. We do!
This shitty city! Is it worth our time? the time we stole from the time we spent not sleeping …together.
There’s a band playing at the bar tonight; didn’t you date the drummer or was that me?
Someone left a science fiction novel on a bench at the bus stop. Tear the pages out & let them fly away.
Squint my eyes so I can read the street signs because I can’t borrow the glasses you forgot to wear.
You never know where you’re gonna find the time to waste your time on something so useless; it’s so precious! You never know where you’re gonna find the time to waste your time on someone so useless as me.
Ah, we’re oh so hunky dory (not!) Ducking under awnings then back into the downpour.
We’re not thinking; we’re not dreaming, running, streaming through the streets into fields once libertine.
Ah, we’re so drop-dead gorgeous (not!). Orphans mothered by orphans neither sanguine nor cruel.
We’re not waiting; we’re not marching. We’ll do everything we can but leave something left to dream.