Dive in Pools
A moon disappearing night alone waiting for angels.
A peace that’s rarely reached.
The key to having it forever
on a stick over treachery dangles.
Pursue lost hopes.
Dive in pools of them.
Strike from the record my past.
Freeze it in time so it lasts.
Coordinate my escape from this place as a ride on light.
The Cartoon Me
I walk towards fire;
I walk towards death – it’s life.
I cannot get outside my fucking head.
I hear my heartbeat,
see it inside my mind,
the cartoon me.
Look at me stuck in this place,
Look at me dying
I’m not doing anything.
The minutes are flying.
I’ve got a problem
Nobody knows me
and nobody owes me.
I’ve got a problem with you and you and you and you and you and you.
Plus, you’ve never died for me.
Can I ever not be me?
Stand beside the sea
Under diamond skies
No one cares to see.
Bury me in sand.
Bury me on land.
Burn me down to ash.
Civilizations never last.
I’ve got a problem with Kings and Popes,
Prime Ministers and Presidents.
New Orleans summer nights are hot, steaming and wet.
If you run in circles like mine,
drinking circles, singles circles, alternative circles,
your only aim is to fuck,
so you drink and wait.
The concrete and old buildings and degradation make your loins pine for something base.
The dirty people’s stink when you pass in the streets.
No one showers in the summer,
we sweat it out through the dancing and the sex and the booze.
Cleansed again only if it rains.
It’s comfort we seek,
something to remember.
The baby rolled around in the center of the king-sized bed when he entered from the balcony.
Honey, have you seen my cigarettes?
He heard the hair dryer from the bathroom.
Never mind, he said, snatching them off the table.
They were in town for the wedding of one of his childhood friends.
A woman he hadn’t seen in nearly a decade.
He tickled the baby.
He squeezed the baby’s nose and kissed its forehead.
He smoked on the balcony ten stories up in his white suit.
He watched the glass elevators on the outside of the hotel go up and down.
The baby cried inside.
The two people on the elevator that rose closest to their balcony appeared to stare at him.
Honey, you really shouldn’t smoke in that white suit.
He turned at the flash of her tripping out onto the balcony.
His feet, legs, arms concreted.
The baby broke the threshold of the balcony.
His limbs began to work again,
but it was too late,
for he could only watch the plunge.
Everybody’s coming to get me.
How can I leave this place and not be gone forever?
Give me a chance.
The glance was all I could take,
and nothing is promised.
All my dreams have shattered right before my bleeding face.
the brilliance of your frozen life a dish that I must taste.
I fester alone in a dungeon-like room.
Heat penetrates walls.
I sweat out the night before.
Up for anything.
Terrifying at night in my search for anything under the sun.
If I didn’t have to sleep, I wouldn’t.
You’ve been sleeping all your life, pudding.
I pull clouds down and wave punish.
If you don’t believe in the man
then you can’t claim he’s in you.
It’s been said that Heaven is a beautiful venue.
Elephant memory menu.
I haven’t a clue what you know about Jesus,
But I know you haven’t a clue what I’ve been through.
Slice through the fabric of everyday life pure,
like a Ginsu.