This is the only graveyard where we dig ourselves up
Remove our skeletons and go on about our way
Don’t worry I will still know all you people
That feel too much
You will bear stitched scars, over broken hearts
Trying to be well
No one wants to be broken
No one wants anyone to see their cracks
But me,
I am content to be one of the wounded
Bury myself the black of the earth
And wait,
For someone who has fallen the same way as I
To fill this grave with me.
I don’t know the patience of creation
I don’t know what it’s like to take 6 days to make something.
If I made the world zebras wouldn’t have different patterns
There would only one copied and pasted over and over
I might tire of drawing manes on lions
So a few might have mohawks or crew cuts
And stick out from all the rests
If it were up to me birds wouldn’t wait till Spring to sing
And roosters would sound their cock’s crow at midnight,
anxious to meet the sun
I wouldn’t wait till the sun was down to have a drink
And it wouldn’t take at least six beers to get me drunk, and brave
I’d walk in with enough courage to tell the girl at the end of the bar,
She’s pretty,
I would still still say pretty because I’m old fashioned and that wouldn’t change.
But we wouldn’t have to wait to fall in love after we got to know each other
We just would know each other the way we know that the sun rises
And which way is up and down,
We would know each other the way we know that water is wet,
And that heat burns,
And I wouldn’t have to wait three days to call her,
We would leave the bar and go straight to our house with the picket fence
And the two and a half kids,
We wouldn’t treat our half a kid any different,
We would tell him he can be anything he wants
And he doesn’t have to wait,
Because Daddy made the world,
And he has no patience,
He just wants to be at the end of things sometimes,
Like the last page of the of the book
Where the story winds down and we find out the hero got the girl.
Shouldn’t there be a prize for those of us who survive the night? Not those people who lay content in their beds, comfortably wrapped up in comforters, dreaming that everything will be better. I am talking about those of us who stay up raging against the night, abandoned by sleep, forced to hang our wishes on shooting stars because they are our only hope. I hope to one day sleep well and greet the morning as a surprise instead of waiting for her to pull herself up over the horizon. The morning isn’t allowed to sleep late, pull the covers over her head, and say, “Ma, just a few more minutes, please.” Instead she puts on her best face to tell the restless and the rested, ” I am here, It is time to begin again.”
It is unfortunate when you get in one of those flirty moods and the people next door to you are married as are all the people downstairs. The guys that live across from you are just that guys and don’t spark your interest. You think about going out but you realize that you’ve put off all your work for this lazy Sunday that you’ve napped away half of already. It is a shame because right now your confidence is high and you feel like you wouldn’t bite your tongue in the presence of a pretty lady today. Maybe you could get her to commit to something beyond tonight and the wheels of your brain could start turning. You’d take her to your favorite used bookstore and buy her a book to read. Tell her she will find a better understanding of you between the pages than you would ever dare to be able to say.
Tell her,
I will not be found in the foreword, introduction, or afterword but instead I will be found somewhere in the middle of the book on an odd page not quite halfway down. There will be a quote there that wasn’t expected but you will know once you read it is me. You will say this is a man I’d like to spend time learning facts about. Does he prefer red or white wine? What’s his favorite meal? Why does have four purple shirts? Is he close with his mother? Is he close with his family? Will he stay awake just to talk to me as I fall asleep? Does he keep his eyes open while kissing? Which way does he lean when kissing? He must go right. People always go right, except he knows that so maybe he will go left and introduce something new to my life. I could use something new to my life and you will say to yourself maybe this boy with eyes like wells of amber and crooked smile that is barely more than a smirk could be for me.
Pardon me, I was born with hands too heavy to raise my fists at every ghost that scares you. Save my number for when you’re really in danger and I’ll be there to fight. Ignore the insignificant and the infantile, a brave man has no need to fight phantoms, he just needs to fight for you.
They sky is falling
We’ve forgotten our umbrellas
So when the clouds descend
Let’s cover our faces
And have a masquerade ball
I will be more handsome than you remember
And you will be good
You will be good
These are the words I’ve saved for you
I want to watch you walk across thunder clouds
To see how you handle the storm, till I
pull you down by bare ankles here,
Where brown eyes can hold you
I see you with the backs of my eyelids
I dream about you
Dull eyes making rough cuts
You’re a surgeon
Removing my legs for my own good
I won’t walk away like those other men did
I am here to stay
When it rains, I think
This must be Seattle fish markets smell like,
But I wouldn’t know
I’m just an east coast boy
Walking slowly,
So that Pacific time catches up to me
I’ll tell you about my
California dreams
While asking you to ignore
The splish and the splash
of me, trying,
to extricate my legs from thick red mud
Before tomorrow comes
And the kiln of the southern spring
Bakes the ground brick
and I have no choice
but to remain
In my all too familiar surroundings.
It doesn’t matter how many sunrises you flee
somewhere there is a cock’s crow that cannot be extinguished
So let’s be men, let’s be women, let’s be human,
Let’s begin
Your body laying perfectly still will not hold up the skies
and keep the forecast from falling and if you remain longer
You will be stuck watching these strangers you call friends
Become stranger still,
You’re afraid to admit that they’ve become boring
And the new theme of your life is escape
It’s only up to you,
Your parents didn’t cast aside their dreams, work Christmas days, give you their last penny
For you to be unhappy,
It is time to make something of yourself
They’ve given a name to the space that lies between us
Called it distance as if that was enough
In between you and I there are farmers confused over crop circles
Girls going to their first dances and boys wondering when to go for the kiss
Between us there are homeless men begging outside of local bars
Because college kids make such easy marks
I have driven 80 mph with my hands off the wheel
Just so I could feel the rush
There are kids practicing counting stars on their ceiling
Vain enough to believe that constellations can be counted on fingertips
There are the sides of offramps, heavy with wildflowers in the spring
There are children growing up believing that something is wrong with them because they are different
Not knowing, everything is right with them because they are different
In the area between us a man spilled my blood on summer’s sidewalk
And I lived to tell you the tale
I have loved women, been destroyed by women, been put back together by women
I have come to appreciate my father and mother, while fearing becoming who they are
In the place where you have lived you have your gathered secrets and stories,
Been the desire of men, maybe you loved a few
And more than a few probably loved you back
But I can’t say all of that for sure,
Because I have done nothing about all that lies between us,
Except give it a name
