fear no evil

You've told yourself
a pack of lies
at one point
you may have even believed them
Of course
that was a long time ago
there's no self-deception
lurking in any of your numerous
dark corners
There are no rogue operations
no actions misappropriated
all thoughts, all desires
are on the level
Your hands have always been
right where you can see them
there are no torpedoes
in the water
and no sinister change of plans
You are safe in your well-lit
control room
locked in, you fear no evil
never mind the moans, the screams,
the endless barrage of noise
that assails your fortified door
You are out of reach
out of sight
and out of touch
with what roams the hallways
of your forever night.

before you got the call

Drinking your tears
under ominous skies
will always bring you back here
This is where
things make sense
this is where
everything works, every time
The pain will always find you
and bring you back home
Nights move on
days burn by
you are unmoved, unfazed,
unraveled,
waiting for the next miracle
You've taken the phone
off the hook
you've taken your past
and choked it to death
like an unwanted puppy
you will always remember the eyes
and their soundless accusations
the tears
and the quickness with which they came
you will always remember
the last time you went down to the river
the little girl named Amy
the laughing skies under the dam
the shadow you once cast there
and the pointlessness of it all
Before you got the call
before you moved away
before her name
meant anything at all
Those dirt roads were a playground
your stereo was always proud
your eyes were always defiant
and ready
You can't ever go back
those places are still there
but what you're looking for isn't
The sun's still blinding off the water
clarity can be profound
and stirring up these musty memories
won't settle what bothers you.

if Bukowski was a prophet

You're onto something here
it's true
but you know it doesn't matter
you're too old
too out of bounds
you can't change that
Too much time has eroded,
too many hours
have worn you down
Fresh faces have no clue
they see what they want to see
not this dying warrior sage
this prophet thief
this vagabond who thinks
his poison is medicine
I have a few ideas left
God willing
I can play them out
but we all know
don't we
I have played the fool
for a pittance
I have abandoned the right path
for pennies
I have run marathons of sin
If Bukowski was a prophet
then I have sat at his feet
and come up empty
I am out of time and out of gas
on this dirt road to nowhere.

the lack of you

The lack of you
has forced me back into my corner
your warmth is just a memory
your eyes can't find me here
I bask in darkness and the horror
of my own company
I have murdered the television
silenced the stereo
turned the lights down low
There is a buzz in my ears
like the ocean in a seashell
it sounds so empty
There is a blackness outside
and it echoes the inside
I am the embodiment of creepy
and I feel the full weight of my discontent
I have lines to read
but no one to hear them
You can't go back
to living with no care
those who do have nothing to lose
I have one thing
but it means everything
that one thing
I fear one day
will break me
If you go before me
then leave a bullet for me
some chemicals are impossible to quit.

to kill a shadow

I will sit quietly in the darkness
until I see your shape
I will wait for you to drive away
you've got to slip up sometime
I will follow you home
with my speakers shouting the Misfits
Does your neck hair tell you
when I'm looking your way?
Do your eyes lie when you
look away?
Well, my intentions are clear
but there are too many
eyes and ears here
Meet me where the heavens are deaf
and the air smells like your hair
I have so many things to say
but my mouth only stammers
my hands will have to explain
Will you listen to them
or will you resist?
My eyes are ringed with insomnia
my speech is heavy in expletives
my breath comes in painful spurts
Can't you see
you're killing me
Can't you see
I have nowhere to run?
There's no way to kill a shadow
but I feel you trying anyway.

resist tomorrow

There is an excitement
in her motions
she moves so fast
you can barely see
you revel in her wake
you wait for the next
fleeting moment
Bastard moments--
lost in your cold brain
where do they go
at the end of the day?
There is no meaning
try calling it a name
names and logic
mean nothing here
This is where sorrow drowns
this is where faces melt
and all becomes calm
Everything is nothing
right now is everything
You are the pillow under my head
the meat on my table
the air in my lungs
You are the rightness of now
I run a race every day
I run for this--
you and me
blankets and books
Forever fused,
we resist tomorrow.