Monday, August 1, 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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