Archive for March, 2014
Lost On, Lost In The Highway
Today, my journey was the usual,
the daily, each day heading for home,
finding home hidden from me seeing
vegetable stands in bombed buildings,
watching plywood work it’s way
to shelter me from the innocent,
locking me away with crooked beasts
who have steel pipes pulled from
the structure of nothingness, ready to
beat me thoroughly, and I stare
at the vacant parking lot with black
sewage toppings, knowing there is no
warmth, knowing it’s no home of mine
but wanting to be flattened under the
sewage and the two smashed eggs.
Strung Up
Motor-mouth machine, what part
of me believes, hopes for happiness
or peace? From mean to easy, neither
works, for punk am I, from the long, wavy
chords in Beethoven’s Number Two, his
weakest, but so powerful, stretching to dive
into a bar of the music and live there,
hide there, never come back, but I am being
a restless dog, first shaking, moving almost
a century to Mahler Number Tnree, and it’s
here that self-pity reigns and crashes in on the
senses, the false triumphs, dogging my ugly
lack of talent, forcing me back to now
where nothing can be good, not even
my favorite music. I whisper desires to drop
dead and slink away as odorless gas, with
or without music. Mahler, buddy, I am
gone and can’t come back. Scream, Mahler!
The Bears Are Winning
Crawling bears wade
gracefully, almost inside
the fused pieces of blacktop
as I ask god, my neck like
a garden hose lost in thin,
light clouds which hide
the screaming, fierce opposition,
the devil, please god, intercede
for me, help me discover
my own center, don’t allow
them to drag me to my cubicle,
as terrible music stings my ears,
traffic from neighbors pauses, and my
dusty black car hops on the backs
of the bears, as I feel already roasted,
yes, toasted, unable to jump out,
unable to find my exit.
stillfugue 