2015
"And to you I say..."
11/10/15 21:50
And to you I say
Yes, you were, and are
I am too, and was
But it bothered me less
And you more
And you sealed it up
Like a landfill
And I let the sun take mine
Like an old wet orange
In the end
Whose tactics were better?
Yes, you were, and are
I am too, and was
But it bothered me less
And you more
And you sealed it up
Like a landfill
And I let the sun take mine
Like an old wet orange
In the end
Whose tactics were better?
Everybody Loves A Train Wreck
01/11/15 08:21
I missed it
God damn it, I missed it
I looked out the window as we drove
And I saw it coming so clearly
Train A approaching Train B
At 30 miles an hour
Train B speeding towards Train A
At 44 feet per second
And just as they were about to demonstrate
A textbook 100 kilometer per hour impact
Of screaming metal and screaming men
And the screaming of millions of people
Screaming at their televisions
As the winning goal of the winning game
Is interrupted by screaming newsmen
With breaking news of broken lives
Followed by screaming pundits shrieking about the children
And the failure of government and the failure of man
And the slow death of everything good and decent and American
And screaming politicians beating defenseless podiums
As they scream at each other about money and regulations
And how we must, or if we can, ever manage to stop
Train A from departing at 5:30 PM going one way
And Train B departing at 6:00 PM going the other
Both traveling at an average speed of 26 knots
And colliding in a shattered mass at 6:22 PM
Along what must, by inference, be a 36 mile length of track
All of it finally answering the obvious question, the only question
The one that my eighth grade math book failed to ask
Namely what happens next
When Train A meets Train B in the middle
Because WHERE they meet
And WHEN they meet
And HOW FAST they were going
Were the easy parts
And it seems like it misses the point
So I stared at them silently, eagerly, transfixed
And just as they closed to kiss each other’s face
We passed in front of a building and I missed it
God damn it
That would’ve been so cool
God damn it, I missed it
I looked out the window as we drove
And I saw it coming so clearly
Train A approaching Train B
At 30 miles an hour
Train B speeding towards Train A
At 44 feet per second
And just as they were about to demonstrate
A textbook 100 kilometer per hour impact
Of screaming metal and screaming men
And the screaming of millions of people
Screaming at their televisions
As the winning goal of the winning game
Is interrupted by screaming newsmen
With breaking news of broken lives
Followed by screaming pundits shrieking about the children
And the failure of government and the failure of man
And the slow death of everything good and decent and American
And screaming politicians beating defenseless podiums
As they scream at each other about money and regulations
And how we must, or if we can, ever manage to stop
Train A from departing at 5:30 PM going one way
And Train B departing at 6:00 PM going the other
Both traveling at an average speed of 26 knots
And colliding in a shattered mass at 6:22 PM
Along what must, by inference, be a 36 mile length of track
All of it finally answering the obvious question, the only question
The one that my eighth grade math book failed to ask
Namely what happens next
When Train A meets Train B in the middle
Because WHERE they meet
And WHEN they meet
And HOW FAST they were going
Were the easy parts
And it seems like it misses the point
So I stared at them silently, eagerly, transfixed
And just as they closed to kiss each other’s face
We passed in front of a building and I missed it
God damn it
That would’ve been so cool
Ghost
01/11/15 08:21
What will you say to the next one
When you’re telling tales
As you know you will
What will you say
Of that blip in time
That sine qua non-starter
The time you had and had not
As you walked out the door
What will you say
You, keen measurer of men
You, master of the cutting analysis
And the biting truth
And hard lessons learned young
You, who loved to laugh at the sweetness
Of a bitter story
Just so long as it was a good story
What did you learn from this
What will you laugh at
When you’re at the bar with a beer
What bitter tale will you tell
What ironies will you employ
Will it be a sad song
Will you feed it to your art
Or will you never bring it up at all
Will you leave those tales behind
Along with all your clothes and furniture
In your flight into the fog
When you’re telling tales
As you know you will
What will you say
Of that blip in time
That sine qua non-starter
The time you had and had not
As you walked out the door
What will you say
You, keen measurer of men
You, master of the cutting analysis
And the biting truth
And hard lessons learned young
You, who loved to laugh at the sweetness
Of a bitter story
Just so long as it was a good story
What did you learn from this
What will you laugh at
When you’re at the bar with a beer
What bitter tale will you tell
What ironies will you employ
Will it be a sad song
Will you feed it to your art
Or will you never bring it up at all
Will you leave those tales behind
Along with all your clothes and furniture
In your flight into the fog
J
01/11/15 08:21
I think of you sometimes.
I'm sorry about that
I really try to avoid the subject
You aren't healthy for me
As I was not healthy for you
But I do
In spite of my best intentions
Think of you sometimes
I think of the things you taught me
The books I'd never have read
The movies I'd never have seen
The music I'd never have heard
All that, and more, you mutant
I was supposed to be the mature one
The wise one
But you never did like to conform
I remember how saying "tell me something"
Became code for "tell me anything at all"
I think of how I felt understood
That you could take anything I said
That you would never judge me
(Though now we know better)
I think of how you trusted me
How you told me of the quiet moments
Of how he looked on you in that moment
I think of how I betrayed you by wanting more
And how you betrayed me by not saying goodbye
It was the right thing to do
Any therapist would agree
But it hurt
And it hurts
And I'll never tell you now
How you literally saved my life
And though I keep moving
And occupy my mind
And live my life
With as little regret as I can manage
(And we both know I can manage quite a bit)
When I least expect it
When I least want to
When everything says I shouldn't
I think of you
I'm sorry about that
I really try to avoid the subject
You aren't healthy for me
As I was not healthy for you
But I do
In spite of my best intentions
Think of you sometimes
I think of the things you taught me
The books I'd never have read
The movies I'd never have seen
The music I'd never have heard
All that, and more, you mutant
I was supposed to be the mature one
The wise one
But you never did like to conform
I remember how saying "tell me something"
Became code for "tell me anything at all"
I think of how I felt understood
That you could take anything I said
That you would never judge me
(Though now we know better)
I think of how you trusted me
How you told me of the quiet moments
Of how he looked on you in that moment
I think of how I betrayed you by wanting more
And how you betrayed me by not saying goodbye
It was the right thing to do
Any therapist would agree
But it hurt
And it hurts
And I'll never tell you now
How you literally saved my life
And though I keep moving
And occupy my mind
And live my life
With as little regret as I can manage
(And we both know I can manage quite a bit)
When I least expect it
When I least want to
When everything says I shouldn't
I think of you
Mnemonic Advice
01/11/15 08:21
I must remember to hold lightly
And that gripping does not mean that I am grasped in return
I must remember that I am an ocean and not a river
That I have no destination, but I move just the same
I must remember that eggshells make for poor longterm storage
And if I want to keep things safe, try cardboard instead
I must remember that the end was always in sight
And that it’s not about the station, but how you ride the train
I must remember that I never had the keys
That I never asked, that I never would, and that I knew why not
I must remember that it’s an apartment, not a house
That it’s not meant to be forever, that it’s not the definition of the word “home”
I must remember that the world is always staring at you,
All the time, everywhere, whether the lights are on or not
That everything you do, think, and are
Is observed, recorded, catalogued by the universe
So don’t be a douchebag, even when no one can hear
I must remember that infinity is infinite
That the grand sum of everything worth having
Is capable of being a number larger than 1
I must remember that the good times were good
I must remember them so fondly
That the bad times which must follow feel like the temporary part
And not a return to form
And that gripping does not mean that I am grasped in return
I must remember that I am an ocean and not a river
That I have no destination, but I move just the same
I must remember that eggshells make for poor longterm storage
And if I want to keep things safe, try cardboard instead
I must remember that the end was always in sight
And that it’s not about the station, but how you ride the train
I must remember that I never had the keys
That I never asked, that I never would, and that I knew why not
I must remember that it’s an apartment, not a house
That it’s not meant to be forever, that it’s not the definition of the word “home”
I must remember that the world is always staring at you,
All the time, everywhere, whether the lights are on or not
That everything you do, think, and are
Is observed, recorded, catalogued by the universe
So don’t be a douchebag, even when no one can hear
I must remember that infinity is infinite
That the grand sum of everything worth having
Is capable of being a number larger than 1
I must remember that the good times were good
I must remember them so fondly
That the bad times which must follow feel like the temporary part
And not a return to form
River Horse
01/11/15 08:21
I dreamed of a man in a hippo mask who laughed as he approached me.
His eyes were wild as he danced and twitched behind his hippo smile.
And because this was a dream, I soon found I was now the man,
Laughing in his voice and staring out with hippo eyes,
As I turned to see a cheering crowd surging forth to greet me.
And so I walked among the throng like a Mardi Gras king,
like a Chinese New Year Lion, lumbering forward as they all delighted in me.
I laughed, and they laughed with me, and threw great handfuls of food to me,
and I opened my mouth, and felt the mask split in half,
Felt my head tip back and my jaws stretch wider than they had ever done,
For now it was not just a mask, but my own great hippo head,
Maw stretched wide to catch their tributes,
Flashing huge jutting tusks and shovel-like peg teeth.
And as they laughed, I roared, and chased them,
And then they screamed and ran.
Because now they all remembered that the meanest beast in Africa
Is not the lion or the snake, not the crocodile or hyena,
Not the rhino or the elephant. No,
The creature feared above all else is a large, angry hippo,
So they screamed, and they ran,
And some abandoned their children in their panic.
And two of these I caught, a little boy and girl, too slow to run away.
And in a voice as deep as graves I cackled “I’ve got you now” and rushed them.
And as I heard them scream, the world faded solid red, then black.
But as I woke and gained control, I forced that voice to say “Just kidding!”
As I felt fingers search my throat for the edges of a mask.
His eyes were wild as he danced and twitched behind his hippo smile.
And because this was a dream, I soon found I was now the man,
Laughing in his voice and staring out with hippo eyes,
As I turned to see a cheering crowd surging forth to greet me.
And so I walked among the throng like a Mardi Gras king,
like a Chinese New Year Lion, lumbering forward as they all delighted in me.
I laughed, and they laughed with me, and threw great handfuls of food to me,
and I opened my mouth, and felt the mask split in half,
Felt my head tip back and my jaws stretch wider than they had ever done,
For now it was not just a mask, but my own great hippo head,
Maw stretched wide to catch their tributes,
Flashing huge jutting tusks and shovel-like peg teeth.
And as they laughed, I roared, and chased them,
And then they screamed and ran.
Because now they all remembered that the meanest beast in Africa
Is not the lion or the snake, not the crocodile or hyena,
Not the rhino or the elephant. No,
The creature feared above all else is a large, angry hippo,
So they screamed, and they ran,
And some abandoned their children in their panic.
And two of these I caught, a little boy and girl, too slow to run away.
And in a voice as deep as graves I cackled “I’ve got you now” and rushed them.
And as I heard them scream, the world faded solid red, then black.
But as I woke and gained control, I forced that voice to say “Just kidding!”
As I felt fingers search my throat for the edges of a mask.
Spindrift
01/11/15 08:21
I've been falling for a while, now
I've lost track of how long for
Days, weeks, my whole life
I'm not sure how that's even possible,
But the ever-rushing air in my ears
And the blur of motion around me
Make it hard to believe otherwise
Maybe I'm in some strange subterranean orbit,
Caught in an endless loop
Around the bowels of the earth
Lit only by the glow of worms and fungus,
And there's nothing for me to grab hold of to stop
No jutting branch or root can support my weight
Let alone break my fall
Because I am heavy, heavy, heavy
And I'll snap,
Or wrench,
Or simply lose my grip
On anything fixed that I grab on the way down
And there is always at the back of my mind
The knowledge that someday, there will be ground
And it will not be a soft welcome cushion when it comes.
Sometimes I encounter others in my predicament
Dark shapes in the distance that resolve into bodies, limbs, faces
They are falling faster or slower
As the aerodynamics of their bodies permit
And we talk quickly, before we pass
Compare notes. tell stories of our fall, and commiserate
And sometimes, if we match speeds enough
And the timing is just right
We can grab hold of each other
And say "I've got you!"
And we feel, for a moment,
Lightness
Safety
The sense of something stable
Something that will not be ripped free
Something that will not pass by before we had the chance
To really see it or understand it
To feel, in some small way,
For now, at least, if we ignore our surroundings
That we are not falling
That we are flying
And we revel in the embrace
And grip each other as though we'll never let go
For hours, days, our whole life
Until we grow tired of each other and push away,
Or drift apart when we weren't paying attention,
Or get knocked apart by something flying out of the dark
Each watching the other spin out of sight
And I am left feeling the weight of the fall once more
And wondering if I'll ever feel that sure grip again
And hear someone say
"I've got you!"
I've lost track of how long for
Days, weeks, my whole life
I'm not sure how that's even possible,
But the ever-rushing air in my ears
And the blur of motion around me
Make it hard to believe otherwise
Maybe I'm in some strange subterranean orbit,
Caught in an endless loop
Around the bowels of the earth
Lit only by the glow of worms and fungus,
And there's nothing for me to grab hold of to stop
No jutting branch or root can support my weight
Let alone break my fall
Because I am heavy, heavy, heavy
And I'll snap,
Or wrench,
Or simply lose my grip
On anything fixed that I grab on the way down
And there is always at the back of my mind
The knowledge that someday, there will be ground
And it will not be a soft welcome cushion when it comes.
Sometimes I encounter others in my predicament
Dark shapes in the distance that resolve into bodies, limbs, faces
They are falling faster or slower
As the aerodynamics of their bodies permit
And we talk quickly, before we pass
Compare notes. tell stories of our fall, and commiserate
And sometimes, if we match speeds enough
And the timing is just right
We can grab hold of each other
And say "I've got you!"
And we feel, for a moment,
Lightness
Safety
The sense of something stable
Something that will not be ripped free
Something that will not pass by before we had the chance
To really see it or understand it
To feel, in some small way,
For now, at least, if we ignore our surroundings
That we are not falling
That we are flying
And we revel in the embrace
And grip each other as though we'll never let go
For hours, days, our whole life
Until we grow tired of each other and push away,
Or drift apart when we weren't paying attention,
Or get knocked apart by something flying out of the dark
Each watching the other spin out of sight
And I am left feeling the weight of the fall once more
And wondering if I'll ever feel that sure grip again
And hear someone say
"I've got you!"
Ultramarine
01/11/15 08:21
Would that I could paint with powder, the pigments so pure and precise, blue blazing deeply and darkly in a hue that your eye doesn't believe, that you think must be fake, that someone is shining some sort of blacklight on this blue, so intense and light consuming it is.
I want to wear this blue, borrow its intensity, make it mine, wear it as a cloak over my own self doubt, and what I will lack in fashion sense will be outstripped by confidence, as men and women are drawn to me yet nervous in my unsettling, throbbing deep blue presence, too mighty to reproduced properly on a computer screen. What—they will think—is a man like that capable of, that would garb himself in such overwhelming blue. They will mark my words and consider my ideas and think "He's mad, but great men often are."
I want an ultramarine work bench at which I will sculpt, and cut, and draw, and write, and paint, and the flecks and shavings of my work will spatter and chip and form constellations on the surface, and every now and then I will clear everything away and lay my hands on the table, contemplating the blue slate that has absorbed the poor offerings to my genius.
I want to paint my room this hue, remove all the furniture, and sit in the middle of it, imagining myself adrift in space, because if space had color, if it were anything other than nothing punctuated by small bits of something, it would be this blue, so heavy it seems to have a pulse. And I would fly through my blue night sky, like I did when I was three, when the might of my mind overcame the weight of my body, when my body had less weight to overcome, as I closed my eyes and flew and was brave and conversed with monsters, and discovered they weren't so bad, or beat up the ones that were, and had adventures, ran from danger, charged straight at it, and in the end got the girl even though I didn't know why that was important yet. And I'd spin and drift and feel the wind in my hair (because blue space has air), and I'd have no limits because nobody had told me where they were.
I want to wear this blue, borrow its intensity, make it mine, wear it as a cloak over my own self doubt, and what I will lack in fashion sense will be outstripped by confidence, as men and women are drawn to me yet nervous in my unsettling, throbbing deep blue presence, too mighty to reproduced properly on a computer screen. What—they will think—is a man like that capable of, that would garb himself in such overwhelming blue. They will mark my words and consider my ideas and think "He's mad, but great men often are."
I want an ultramarine work bench at which I will sculpt, and cut, and draw, and write, and paint, and the flecks and shavings of my work will spatter and chip and form constellations on the surface, and every now and then I will clear everything away and lay my hands on the table, contemplating the blue slate that has absorbed the poor offerings to my genius.
I want to paint my room this hue, remove all the furniture, and sit in the middle of it, imagining myself adrift in space, because if space had color, if it were anything other than nothing punctuated by small bits of something, it would be this blue, so heavy it seems to have a pulse. And I would fly through my blue night sky, like I did when I was three, when the might of my mind overcame the weight of my body, when my body had less weight to overcome, as I closed my eyes and flew and was brave and conversed with monsters, and discovered they weren't so bad, or beat up the ones that were, and had adventures, ran from danger, charged straight at it, and in the end got the girl even though I didn't know why that was important yet. And I'd spin and drift and feel the wind in my hair (because blue space has air), and I'd have no limits because nobody had told me where they were.