[untitled]

She sings to me in words I've heard before
I don't know just how I got here
The sunshine on my face is the voice inside my head
Saying, baby, don't go looking for that pain

I talk to her of songs that never played before
We don't know how we got here
The rain inside my head is just that same old story
Saying, baby, don't go looking for her name

And when we're locked up tight
I can dream that it's alright
With the quiet night surrounding us now
And when she takes my hand
I try my best to understand
Where I've come from and where I'm off to now

She speaks to me in tongues just like before
She don't know quite how I got here
The clouds upon my heart are faces from my past
Saying, baby,
don't cry for us

Not Even Remotely

And if you ever told me I was boring
Well I could probably live with that
And if you ever thought you caught me unawares
It would be for me and not for you that I'm performing

I can't read the writing on the wall anymore
I lost the pen that wrote it all the day before
And if I ever wanted it back, then I don't anymore
And looking for it's only got me what I never wanted
Never wanted

And if I thought that intimacy was broken
Well I could probably live with that
As if there's a difference between the silence and the quiet
And what she whispers is all I ever needed left unspoken

And I can't read the writing in my black book anymore
I've lost the blood I wrote it in the day before
And if I ever wanted it back, then I just don't anymore
And looking for it's only got me what I never wanted
Never wanted

And your music in the morning
strikes me across my face
It never came together quite right
in the first place

And if you thought that I was a little too intense
Well I could probably live with that
I'm back out on those slick and noisy roads again
My hands are open, my eyes are full, and there's everywhere to turn

I can't recognize the writing in my weblog anymore
I broke the keyboard that wrote it all the day before
And if I ever wanted it back, then I don't think so anymore
And looking for it just got me what I never wanted
Never wanted, never wanted

Me and Eulogy

i wish you could hear what it's like
on the other side of this open door
muffled and coarse rumbling air
humbled and stifled
still and inconsolable

what was in your mind at the econo-lodge
in the stink of neighborly sex
and dead solemn silence under sheets

The Love lies in state

a funeral with no one attending
no corpse to inter
a bouquet of questions final

was it the far past that did it
how is the better the greater threat
did comfort and ease breed impossibility
is the missing thing trust and its terrible company
how close would we have had to be to cross the field and shake our hands

now the empty box
waits for the rain of the first spadeful
ravenous for the dirt and darkness
a song without knees
a night without rings
and distance, distance

and i would fly tomorrow if it would make a difference

In or Out?

We could air our dirty laundry
and let others see their soiled sheets in ours

I'd rather return to wind and stars
wind and stars
remember how to be speechless
and comforted

Are we in this; together?
Or are we out; apart?

I can do this anytime

I need
To understand the metric of silence
I have learned and unlearned
And looking it in the face
I am still unaccustomed
Afraid to leave my baggage at the gate

You've brought
A piercing strange light to my eyes
And I struggle with the wielding
Though in my memory it better lives
We can draw it whenever we choose
To inform our new lives, together or apart

Today Ends the Weak

Gnawing the bones worrying
the straggled morsels not
all my limb remains there
is some in the trap a
large American-style portion
proportionate to my investment.

When the dream careens Icarish
to earth becoming rain I look
to your imagined face for my
insurance a confidence game to
found a new house of glass for
throwing stones out of.

Shouting the shouting doesn't
stop and it's only when the
hoarseness grows that I realize
I purchased it with my own
flight to wombish staring
darkness hiding nothing.

Shame grows from adoration
when perspective is lost through
the spyglass even when the
secret is never told because
the telling can never be
honest enough to hold account.