All time spent trying to love and trying to love myself, too. Who, you? This whole thing tracing backward, insidious. Will we ever try that restaurant? We? The restaurant? It’s a madhouse double gamble no protection fallout shelter in place bullshit tornado warning. It’s everything I can do to say snap pea, red wagon, arm chair. Where’s Marianne? Get her. Too many books with pages like dominoes falling, dripping like morphine that can't stop the drowning. It’s payday somewhere. Who gets the goat? I get a vent and my singing’s done. Is my singing done? Who’s done and what is done? Let’s really complicate things here. By a show of hands, who gets a vent? I better talk to my God. I better get in line, Pancho. Ay, ay, ay. Simplify the formula, get your milk straight. Dear God, please save us. We watched Titanic and it didn’t end well. Raised on tragedies but somehow snowflakes. Fifteen love. Game’s a sham. That ten dollars in the water, just waiting. I got a hook on a line. I got a hook on a line in my mind. I'll get a hook—let me get a hook.
Road (& Off-Road) Stories
New Orleans - March 20, 2020
i don't know how to tame things, only how to be tame
and then only sometimes and i'll be the judge of that
just like you are and just like you
if i were king i'd say
get me a sports team
some on-field drama
some amazing feat
some vertical jump
some questionable move
to argue with no consequence
get me a cold beer
some sun on my skin, some body
of water, some laughter,
some story to share
with no room for gloom
get me all the distractions, i'd say
this one and that
and take away my phone
take away all the phones, I'd say
and with one sweep of the scepter
we'd all go outside and play
New Orleans - March 11, 2020
words, you old hound
you silent sound, you crashing wave,
you fluttering wing,
you big nose on a face.
why do you stand out so?
words, you old cat
you old hat, you walking cane,
you gold mine, coal mine
all dirty and dangerous and gross.
disproportionate,
the ratio wrong, the ration wrong
too many, too much, yuck
too little, too few, eew
but
when you’re right (alright?)
words, you mona lisa,
you flower bud, you wind chime,
you pyramid,
you cupcake, you north star,
you lizard on a leaf
words, you old god
you old “with god was god”
I see you there,
you old instigator, you.
Appomattox, VA & Morgantown, WV - September 23, 2018
we hit the road hard bright eyed
and the weather turned cold and grey
streaks blurring the glass on the short
quick drive through farm fields and winding roads
dotted by historic markers and churches
we crashed a Pentecostal picnic in the back
of the store looking for bathrooms
and brushing on blush near the train
tracks where Lincoln stood, and the wood
of the floors giving a rhythm and depth
that took us past the present and back
and farther back before propelling us
back onto the road in the rain up the hill
behind a black bear bounding
across the roadway like a beast
magnificent and quick and purposeful
the deer, too, crossing just ahead of us
but slower and more suspicious like me
every passing day and eventually we landed
at the wood-lined hotel where ghosts
greeted us skeptically as we got room keys
from the smiling blonde, god-fearing boy
kindly cluing us in to the parking etiquette
of west virginia as we rushed along
to gig two where the man said wow
and we didn’t know why, we’d only
pulled up the van but the warmth
greeted us like a blanket of low light
winning us all over in another two hours
time flying like the bear up the hill
and then we returned to the ghosts
who left evidence of their party
on a dwindling bottle of booze
so of course spirit jokes and deep
conversations about love and lust and who
has what when and break ups always good
late-night banter with the ghosts in the room
having a sip and wanting to tell their own
and doing so once the lights are out
and the next morning we washed them off
in the rain at Coopers Rock where the clouds
misted eyes and skin and leaves turned red
and two bluejays appeared in a second
to offer assurances of peace and promise
before we rounded the corner into Maryland
and had ourselves a feast
Hillsborough, NC - September 22, 2018
Eyes on the prize, two hours
two people, two sets, two tones
symmetry in two movements
and such heavy eyes it was carefree comfort
despite heels that leave you ringing
the words don’t come tonight
the feelings too positive
the lift was from more than the heels
more than the voice, more than the major lift,
symmetry in two movements and four voices
from one bring me home
how many ways to talk about a good night
the words don’t come and when do you give up
and when do you decide what’s worth saying
leopold, sour cream, sports, nothing
freedom and its absence
Charlotte, NC - September 21, 2018
fatigue so full it takes up three paper plates
a late-night slice making you late to your self
the one waiting on you to take care
take care, we say, sure one day
I’ll sleep when I’m dead
is also something we say
carrying us from dreams
to stage to seat to bed to dreams
like cattails waving in the wind
flowers left in a vase and oils
diffusing in a minivan to keep
spirits up and away, up and away
like the stars past the planets
like the bulbs over the audience
twinkling, shimmering guitars sliding
out of silk, stained, a bit bloody
muddy waters where the stage once was
a light roux a little rouge a lot of roofs
with blue tarps back home 13 years ago
and no one addressed the floods
I am really sorry about them
I am really sorry for not taking care
we gotta go, gotta get back to basics
goodnight muse, goodnight moon
goodnight goodnight goodnight
Asheville, NC - September 20, 2018
archetypes shimmering from black sequins
spouting slithery serpentine sins hissing fits
saying all is nothing and nothing is everything
and I’m like why and why does everything
have to be a few degrees off and how do
we leave this place without losing
too much of ourselves and how do we leave
without taking too much of you
burbling babbling stories filled us like liquor
and here we go trying to have patience
trying to have babies trying to have a career
might this fan fall on my head I think
I oughta shut my eyes and bring the light down
and what was that did you hear it
a surround sound shift in energy
do you hear the ants in the jar lid
I think they’re trapped I think that’s the point
now there’s something on my computer
sliding down the screen it’s really sliding
where’s my wife seriously where are you lucy
please say hello cider buffalo walgreens
anything weird enough to catch my attention
and make me haul you in I’m so tired
like a lamppost on the corner of a good night
watching the moths come and go from the darkness
shedding light on the cracks in the pavement
flickering out in the hush before dawn
Isle of Palms, South Carolina - September 19, 2018
sun flares across the windshield
smoke and dust kick up
pirate’s luck and questions like
where x is on the map or
where x should be and
how does x make you feel
we drew the treasure map
a spot on wood near waves
we didn’t see or even hear
or smell really, blocked by sand
dollar walls probably
so much went into the cartography
the hauling of goods and gear
and when we set up camp
I was too tired to hunt treasure
And yet somehow we found it
or pieces of it, anyway, washing up
in the form of squirrel, a free bird, a funny note
or a ring on the hook
we woke sweat-soaked
broke the fever
a lonely split in the sand
where treasure once was
the waves crashing somewhere
Black Mountain, NC - September 17, 2018
black mountain
more like black magic
magnet, moon
half moon
high noon
at the okay corral
a mixed bag, mixed moon
trail mix trailing
a Monday moon
put the moon down
please, carefully
pick the sun up
please, quickly
we can’t raise it
by ourselves
Nashville, TN - September 16, 2018
what are days even odd that they pass like leaves on the ground in a gusty breeze churning eastward was that two days ago or three I honestly can’t recall but I do remember loving the night enough not to leave it for the night I wanted
and I’m sure I missed greatness like I might miss a train but I saw the lady waiting for the train and that was just as good probably and I’d like to think all the good wasn’t curated but it was hog heaven
four leaves I took off the ground of my ancestors where they walked some time before they were under it another oh hello but with no answer I did listen and hills like a body subtle and green and welcoming there along big goose creek
can you tell me something about them what did he run from what did he do it’s always a he almost with the do I can’t blame nelly without information the place rattled us like a ghost in the bedroom all the smoke and mirrors and missing teeth
hi I’m Mary mother of God she might have been I shook her hand I shook it’s amazing how a smile disarms were they armed or only watching cars like civilized people watching them go round and round and round and round and round and round
but it’s complicated don’t get all black and white on me when it’s all fucking grey grey is my favorite color really it is I don’t quote songs much I hope I get a dream out of it dixon springs springing I really could go back
But the scariest thing loomed over the hillside and I’m not sure it wasn’t a dream from start to finish did it open the earth how deep does it go nuclear how big is the word wirt why did he leave I ask before I go to sleep I ask before I leave wirt
I ask why and when will we be back and what do I say but eight ball corner pocket we might be kin you say but you’re not wirt you’re roger and my questions are still questions growing like the oak over lucy jolley
and we better leave this now for dreams we better leave this now for we better leave this now for the dreams