Monthly Archives: May 2014

good evening, all ecstatic

trudge through the underbrush and set up no lines to by brought forth from an actor who wishes and whines like a child who didn’t get candy at the store. don’t you know to be building? don’t you know to be cautious. don’t you know you are delving down deep into packages claimed at the station; the train was pulled in and and the engineer was racing to the edge of the crowd, there was a doctor who proudly took on the bold mission to cure some schmuck in the dining car who choked on his steak because his bites were too big and who, lately, wasn’t even eating meat.
dig through the garbage and find what you lost or be creeping down boulevards looking for a park to fall asleep in, by the pond, on the banks of a river, so bright and wide.
be ecstatic about something.
let your passion run wild.

good morning, all trim

you displace your disposition
and deny your basic front
to be a pattern of persuasion
of a letter carried son
a fed up traveler having no fun
or pastures plowed in the summer months
the town is far away now
so take me out
upside turned around
my palms of sweaty
and i’m nearly broken now
and sending messages abroad
or casting calls out of a cloud
the rain collects and floods
you never know what lies
beneath, upon, or behind

good afternoon, all denitrified

clean off your car seats
there’s cigarette burns on the carpet
there’s ashes on the dashboard
of american flags
listening to music
from busted out speakers
and not knowing what could be
gets in the way of your taking off to kentucky
to meet that girl you once new
she’s a woman now
and you’re both brand new
but i promise
you’ll never be more than just friends
and as your world spins
balance on your two feet
and take it easy

good afternoon, all symposium drifters

sleep in the flowers
and rest on your arm
lay back with your legs folded
prepared for the storm
you’re deft and high-yielding
you’re stubborn and torn
between what lasts and what’s better for
the edges on the lawn
yes, your sidewalk is prestine
your shrubbery’s strong
the clover which lines the gardens
is plush
and you talk over birds singing
so hush
listen intently to nature’s song
and participate thusly
you voice sings along

good afternoon, all harsh reality

there is a place i like to go
at the back of my property
blazing a trail
and gaining notoriety
you and i both
know that neither is cold
but as memory serves
twas silver and gold
and rubies all strewn
across the ground, and anyway
scattered about like the sun and its rays
through the clouds
oh, the clouds
are falling around now
now the fog is so dense
i can’t see past the ground
only three feet in front of me
it’s raining and i
know that it’s something worth saving
it’s gorgeous
not trite
no, it’s more than you know
lord, it’s more than you’d think
if you pack up the house
don’t forget the sink
so when camping around
you can wash all your clothes
and hang them to dry
over branches and hose
off the surfaces
of benches and chairs
and rely on no failure
you’re lovely
but i don’t care

good morning, all gargantuan

love cannot be made
only expressed
you wake up in the morning
and get dressed
you lie about being honest
yet tell the truth to pass the test
and the downtown skyscrapers
are etching up the sky
the stars are nowhere
nowhere to be seen

there’s a thousand ways to love
and 50 ways to leave your lover
and the 51st has been said
to not be as gentle or as clean as all the others
so you idle on the grass
and catch the rays of sun
the afternoon lasting just a little too long
and you lay down
and sleep

good evening, all tumbling tumbleweeds

try to be a little less dense
wanting to cut through
so you jump the fence
i am a traveler
no, i have traveled
up and around
this great country of ours
through and up and over
and foregoing all want
to be a tumbling tumbleweed
with nowhere to go
nothing to show
no one to bleed
ah, but there’s something
that i can’t imagine
that i sang
i sing

good evening, all tried and true

hang out in a bundle
and sweat out the toxins
be over the mountains
and under the river valley
the watershed wakes
and the possibilities shake
from the tooth or the nail
or a shovel; a rake
taken upon itself to be distancing
itself from itself

tread lightly on ground
ancient ruins abound
and nobody knows
if a tree makes a sound
if it falls
if it falls
or if the wolverine’s call
is heard
is heard
at all

so hold hands which are shaking
and bind them with rope
and lose all your second chanced
high or so low
the garbage collects
and i’m not sure it can
be calm
be safe

good morning, all strewn across

pick a side and stay there
don’t idle in between
you’re either with us or against us
the times are fucking changing
what was once a shallow field
shows, now, abundantly clear
to be the passing of a breeze
like it was never really there
all descending into pastures
raising grain to your dollar
paid what’s everlasting:
a work day or a dog collar
and please, no pressing matters contend
with a bold engineering of stiff upper lip consent
to the wells wreaking havoc
on a hard-water-buy
don’t pass it
don’t panic
don’t tease me with lies
you’re a drunk
no, an addict
your feelings are rye
on the left side of honor
and the right side all crying
like beggars all screaming
for someone to see
that they’re hungry
or freezing
but when a life is too much
for a martyr to offer
they’re back on their heels
all soft on the lovers
denying their worth
to a ghost of a partner
or the time all spent
with hours relinquishing
jagged edges cut through
with knives all serrated
and silencing truth
no self overrated
no plans
no use
no games
no excuse

good afternoon, all transposition

copy down the music
and the lyrics wrought with pen and ink
from a mind so set on dancing
as it sits, it sits
and calms its torrid marching tunes
as unbridled as the ruins
while the horses’ carriage breaks
down upon the side of the road
and take your master’s hand
and be a soldier for the land
planting trees,
the planet breathes
rightly with its skin
soaks the water in
as it rains; it rains
and quite the same
as it was before

good afternoon, all slimmed down

oh so the canopies wave in the wind
oh how the leaves turn up to catch the rain
oh what a sight to see trees
growing and growing
and showing how nature happens
despite its surroundings
you see
you can either adapt or die
or move away
trees can’t go anywhere but up
though the branches sway from side to side
as they dance toward the sun
their rings, music

good morning, all juxtaposed

sliver to the side and let the morning turn to night
there isn’t much to see in the darkness
there isn’t much to learn on the right
progressively pointing
out projects which pander
to politicians pleasing their lobbyists
and taking no risks
handing it in
collecting a paycheck
and playing the game
such a strange
wicked game