you know it's time for you to go

 in the company of corpses

      three nights

   three times

         three

   and then

it’s up to me

they don’t say anything

they aren’t listening

   but

one shifted

and turned in the night

i woke

with a start

   asked ‘is everything allright?’

   before i chance remembered

before i gave to flight

   i tried

now   i no more read it

than lived it

      that’s just the facts

the fuse was dipped

then lit

   it glowed a good long time

      in low light

the higher the hang

the more dead   the ore

and that leads directly

   back to the corpse

have no doubt that the logic is sound

the sun comes up

just as surely as it goes down

now   if you’d come in the summertime

when there’s more accommodating ground

when the sight doesn’t much bother

    with the sound

and the hills hold fate

in the meaning of song

   they know how to sing

how to sing along

   alone

and undone

that’s english

where you feign death

the pressure works

from either end

to your middle

     muddled

big pressure

waits for words

understands what is heard

friendly chinese

two hours

or three

do not use

   this time

to explain

      use the time

to reclaim the remains

   introspection

is your name

that water was cold enough

and the bottle filled right on up

but   i bow out

hold back

   held down

         it is no worry of mine

on a black horse

   for hope

and through the kind of rain

that only wants to be

   snow

it weeps

  then it moans

you know it’s time

      for you to go

there’s no such thing as simple songs

i’ve watched no country

seven nights in a row

    not strictly an active watch

one and a half times with ponytail

      once without breathing

but never forgetting

         how you did the leaving

boyos have the heart scars

   after every beating

to prove that

          we can move it
   that there's blood on our shoes

               to match the blood on your boots

   

      you couldn’t just call it off

instead you decided

         the best route was to not talk

before the light went soft

   and you gave it up

with chamomile tea

   an infidelity

            on a monday

when he’d already called in to work

   so

that’s when he convinced you

  ‘we might as well make use of the church’

      on the run

on the coast

sailing winds

               the arrogant boast

here’s a toast

to the ones you leave behind the most

the ones who brought you to the air

      what future holdings do to fear

hot brown coffee has no care

just like you won’t hear

         the cow screaming

who

   and how it got there

makes you think ‘fuck the ones’

   who need to stare

who need to understand things

   or share

stay away from the kind of people

who like movies

      or music 

who get things done

so   yeah  

         that’s pretty much everyone

except the little boy

   lord fauntleroy

who took one last shot

with all his toys

headed east to wait

for daddy to die

      for the money to come

dressed you up like it’s 1981  

like declan patrick aloysious macmanus

   laid down his gun

   to spend his time

reciting schoolboy puns

ever clever down the rabbit hole

pouring concrete footings

   around your flagpole     

telling you all the truth

you choose to hold

   like

who you are

   and

why you’re here

  

      was fifteen the other f word

or was that father

      i used to burn certain suns to know that truth

but now i don’t even bother

might as well put a name on it

catholic

   convenient

      but everything
including ideals

         can be labeled as wrong

and

there’s no such thing as simple songs

maybe you're through

life gets even

in the end

a tragedy

southern

whites

still

depend on

finding dusk

neither

grand

nor

old

he didn’t

do as

he was

told

he didn’t

really

believe

did he

the money

was so

tempting

this isn’t

something

you learn

it’s shining

in dirt

like nineteen

seventy-three

the rain fell

one hundred

percent

the smoke alarm

battery

beeped

spent

again

like it did

back when

it had

the blues

it sang

bad news

and

no matter

what you do

if you play

those tunes

if you know

the loose

         well

maybe

            you’re through

all that we could ever be

thirty days has september

the troubling case

of harvey leroy atwater

whose name is known by ones and zeros

that take so much

of my attention home

two tens

            twenty

seems like long time

but hate can climb

            and rove can row

the worst can grow

   and it has grown

it took the pride

of the ones who really know

but aren’t afraid to go

across the line

                          full blown

the drone didn’t know

but lee found out the truth

or   a truth

he was a witch-doctor a sleuth

suffered from hard luck and misuse

but dave baerwald told me the news

how he hoped that there is a god

that punishes

severely

now that must have scared the shit out of lee

so he tried to make a bit amend

for the liars club   all his friends

dining out on hate and blame

calling good men out by name

‘perceptifying’ reality

unbeknownst to the ones in need

but not the ones confused by greed

the hired help was all that he

       all that we

                  could ever be