Wednesday, August 10, 2011


I wish I could pull out those files

bring back whatever was lost

find something in me

which mattered the most.

Cliche' death numb dumb lost.

Zombie, robot, walking talking undead.

I would strip my skin

to find what's underneath

but there's nothing there

it's all up here.

There was a pharmacy

a dimestore place to be

balls in cages

old men smelling of smoke and dirty jeans.

You look at me I see your eyes

for a moment

I'm in you

thinking with your thoughts.

There's always that sadness in the brightest smiles.

It resides just between the skull and hair

a band of memories


The old man walks by

I am a moment's glance

forgotten stance

not even tucked away.

But through his eyes

I watch him walk to his truck

there are many things to be thankful for

beer and a chair all that i need.

In the store there are many things

red. greens. browns,

Growling monsters behind the counter

who are you?

that you should want?

My reds my greens, my browns?


I am nothing.

Air flowing into space

with no substance

touching everything

touching nothing.

family pulls me along

as i stumble fumble fly.

Around a square table

booth style red tuffed with brass buttons

the poison of dripping green beans

and the litany of what is and what was

and why and because built a story of words

i was forced to live by.

That is because it is and it just is

No. It isn't.

I am the wind and I can read your mind.

Strange eyed and scraggly

unkempt hair and running with mangy dogs

all with men's names: ralph george lance

always something in the field important

to see to do

and the dogs knew it too.

Felt the energy of the trees

and the song of the grass

how the flowers looked at you

hidden secrets in a field.

bones and running streams.

Then you blew your bugle horn

and brought me in.

To wooden desks and a thousand eyes

soft pudgy legs

bows and lace

each with their own square table told

what is what isn't this is this this is that

the way you should be.

each one thinking they'd had it all

figured out because they had been told


confident eyes, downcast eyes, scared eyes

for the ones who hid

while the plates flew and the angry voices

put them in their place

no where when or why must create

their reality piece by piece without reference

with a base many builders can build

the easily led.

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