difficult waters

we stand where the land gives in to the harbor

and the rest of the journey is difficult         waters

but i can't think of

anyone

       i'd rather see

trying too hard is just

      hoping that you see

it's not about you

          it's not about me

                                    that much is a lie

it's just not about me

you drove away the snow turned 

        into rain

and your last apology

              didn't mean anything

you said ‘forget…

            forget i even came’

i spent the next three days in search of disaster

 with dylan

                   whiskey

                                    and all the best bastards

         that’s when the sad boys

                               lined up to see me

the ever-go-by shows you the picture

     then you decide that the small parts

         are     fiction

i’ll work on the world

                           you work on the time

                           sitting in swoon

bending back fingers

there's nothing i have    that's

   even worth stealing

you

                  underneath   

                                    breathe

‘my kingdom                            for a king’

            so

in a one window room

                  i make the decision

            the train rattles by

with a lack of precision

                  but you and all ways

find the tracks

                  that i need

    the sound of the air

is making me lonely

                  well   lonelier

                           that's better

to describe the courage

     to stubborn and stand

give the harbor a hand

this morning stands tall

    at a comfortable distance

from the truth or the past

                 whatever you noticed

       could take you away

take you to the sea

here's the trick though

 it's a bit late for changing

i wear this on my sleeve

cause that's what is remaining

and i can't think of

         anyone i'd rather be

                       late  

         on a friday

                  the stare isn’t moving

the figure descends

         and you won't get to me

circle the ones

                  that make you believe

            in

  suicide marks

      of procrastination

the something between us

                  won’t ever be patient

if you could marry an idea

                  then i'd be an idea

then the picture starts to fade

          it cracks

                  and it yellows

and you have to be

                  at rushford tomorrow

good at goodbye

                  isn’t something to be

      i'm broken

so fix me

   it isn’t a question

     i know that you're leaving

and there is no exception

but i still can’t think of

                  anyone

           i’d rather see

           to live                    is to fly

but that sounds like bullshit

    i don't know who'd believe it

and waste their time chasing it

                   but would you would you would you

come to england with me?

how soon is never?

                                             how soon is never?

                  three hundred and fifty one days a year

                                             it's seventeen miles to buffalo

 bullet shot in d major

              the spinning sky

scared of the future

                  sick of the past

a ten twenty-two

          from me

to you

                lalomia

mixing wine and palestine

the misinformed leading the under-informed

                                             leading the oblivious

  the sun is rising     but not for you

you re-retreat to the greens and blues

            of the southern tier    where bad news

has trouble getting through

your whole life is an emergency

       maybe this is one of the whys

       and  the only thing you ever draw   is eyes

or good stick figures ready to fight

   the full passion of lantern light

                  but that’s what walls are for

                                  someone else    born to ignore

we slept in the same bed

                  just not at the same time

precious crime scene

        not especially clean     or mean

every piece stuck in between

         her    she stood right here

cried styrofoam tears

           for the poison that is years

the undeniable veneer

you see

it comes down to which criminals  we feel most comfortable with

the ones with the sneer or the ones with the lisp

          like the hem around a hanging tree

singing hymns    of suffering


 the legend can only grow if you are big enough to handle it

when i get tired i drop things

my keys

       my watch

        the ball

names of the almost famous

                  who forgot to tip

                     didn't know how  

                                         or why  

  i met him the one time

     but somewhere in the telling

it has turned into a lie

             because nobody smiled

 Photo by Patrick Riedy

happiness is a scheme

there is a map of cypress on the wall

lips painted green and a hand to hold

if you were born there you can’t go back

                             it’s just too dangerous

                                    you have responsibilities   to us

                    and heroic is a relative term

                                        just as memory is written and then learned

                                      a sense of justice was somehow earned

                                           because stoic, too, is a relative term

                              

c for calvin c for clifford

c for calvin c for clifford

            they broke the record

mensch

         cut what makes sense

what makes me nervous 

    recompense

       shut it down

 turn around

   least of all

common ground

     this is your favorite movie

no wonder you’re depressed

       don’t tell me he did it

did it sound like he did it

he did it    he did it

      could it

would it

no        of course not

did that sound like a gunshot

          okay  it did   the harm was his

so here i sit

and there is no tangerine slice

it’s one hundred and twenty percent black and white

   it’s an ode

an homage

to a different time

made by a different man

who didn’t need spotlights

he did need starlets and circus nights

     but words on the page

had to suffice

 until the celluloid soon made everything right

left siobhán and the shy one

         to i a l diamond

under cover of the california night

these boys

      made it so that the sun wouldn’t shine

unless it happened to ask

and if it was wearing a mask

          then what’s rising would last

into the into the into the    past

with a look   and a laugh

honor intact

   never pander to anyone that’s just a fact

he told the truth like a magazine

               centerfold    beauty queen

it’s just that no one is listening

    to him    or

to me

          anymore

the quickening of Q T Lee

 la la la     lee le lee     i’ll be disappointed

         see      inevitable

meinyou   youinme

everyone  every thing

    yeah    this too 

impervious 

   still seeking truth   searching roots    follow through

                  fiddle tunes  the pipes the pipes of old cancun

           furrowed gains neck to pain 

 head to head   median migraine

white girl problems    floating free     the quickening of  Q T Lee

hard words to hear two days post   
                    different alone  than the ones i had known 

        close the door so close to home  
                   the hidden hills are gone girl gone 

                                                              gone

do you still turn those leaves    easy as it is to breathe  gertie cage   
     the threatening deafening  unsettling    
                       time it takes to leave  myth or mark on anything

she wore flip flops to the club  

keep doing what you’re doing see   cause this here  this   this is maddening   we suffering     chanty cheat   surrey sweet  surreptitious on a serif sea   

       shoes with laces is the way to be 

the way to blue    the way to me

the years wear well on those that make it do   that make the truth   hide the proof   start it out as something new   only to end   
              as shiny shoes   badnewsandblues    

                                   happy birthdays    too  

it’s your move    

the door was already open because the words   were already spoken

like a token  to the

economy

those white girl problems the hanging heat

                 killing time   killing me

       resurrection is as much about when as it is about how

it’s already been decided you can’t un-decide it now

as the once dry eyes find two eighty five  
          an apology from the past says

‘it’s alright’     

by Michael Borremans

will they hear sopranos or those bone digging staylows

justice rumours    but that ain’t the truth

that’d mean that you figured out  what to  do

what to say   and which way   the wind blows   and goes gray

where it comes from   where it ends up     both  inches away 

determined to say 

      almost every day

the full flight pull  no shame in that  and sometimes

          the sun does rise     but whose eyes will see surprise

will they hear sopranos   or  those bone digging staylows  

are the soundwaves     the long days or simply the wrong way

and do they really mean anything

smile     you won’t   you don’t

why don’t you smile                                                                                     what you didn’t say when you asked me   to stay

kale kale kale 

                  cale kale  

     it’s like kale every day

then it was heard

‘who do you have to fuck to get some lou reed up in here?’

a buttoned up orange shirt 

seen to sigh  heard to hurt

hartcrane to heart

          torn completely apart

feet fastened to the past  

farewell  to rusty  dusty  and maps   

chimes   rhymes  derelict times

on a dime

in line

 don’t worry

 it’s fine

that walk was long and it hurt the girl  after i hurt the girl  but before the rest of the world   before the cheap english prof  with a haircut cough  took advantage of the planted blew the whole thing off

bone tangled words

  taking the third  and exchanging the hurt for    socks and a shirt  like the best of us learn and the rest of us yearn for timing downturns in this economy and waiting for someone else to make us free   can’t be couldn’t be wouldn’t be     

but there were no flowers as far as i could see

         the closest they got were good looking weeds

and that didn’t have anything to do with me

       they picked the time and the temperature before the disease

then made it mine with a wink   a hand holding decree

and certain situations let the sights just see   

 the sea   the we 

                  in the best of the me