Thursday, February 25, 2010

On the Train to Mayfield



 
[ Photograph by Nicholas King ]


It was on the train to Mayfield
that celebrated Birthdays,
conductors standing straight and tall,
and all the the rolling earth.
There we stood and heard the choir
and saw the people dancing.
I said, let's take the next stop.
You nodded absently.

So we got off in Hiding.
Walked the streets together.
A light rain was falling.
And the prophets on the street corners
were calling out your name.

Well, the house was cold and dark but open,
with crosses made of birch and twine,
hanging above our bed
with the covers kicked away,
revealing you to me
and now my thoughts are drifting,
remembering a memory
and what you asked of me:

Have you made up your mind?
I've already decided.
I'm staying here in Hiding
until I can really get away.
And I can't hear you, Mary Ann.

And I am dreaming, Mary Ann.

The broken shutter's swinging
woke me up the next morning.
Then I heard you singing
from underneath your pillow.
Outside the sun was shining
with such intensity
that we took our time awakening
to say our good-byes.

And at the Station we stood apart,
afraid of retribution.
Here's the Lie and here's the Sign
that this will last forever.
And I watched you from the window.

I'm going on to Mayfield, Mary Ann.

I am leaving, Mary Ann.


Saturday, February 13, 2010

Simple Head Sitting on a Simple Man





Simple head sitting on a simple man
Draw a circle around your bones
We drew a straight line
We're doing what we can
Simple head sitting on a simple man

Totem poles all lined up in a row
See a figure eight lie down and dream
Stand straight as you can
Look down below
Totem poles all lined up in a row

Kelly Bellows in a dreamscape full of rain
Tears falling, falling down your face
We danced with the clowns
Sang the song of the human race
Kelly Bellows in a dreamscape full of rain

Exploitation is simple and up on the wall
The simple man he's screaming at you all
The metaphor falls apart
And still you see the water fall
Exploitation is simple and up on the wall



Tuesday, February 09, 2010

Sixty-three days in the Bellingham haze


[ source ]


Sixty-three days in the Bellingham haze
Dues down paid with the dealers only made
Me want to get up and with the bimp down grades
My love is long gone, fingerprints will fade

So no one will know if I just don't go
Back to Austin to stand in the Chicon Street glow
Over red rocks spit out of you told me so
I'll hide in the dumpster so the smoke won't show

Know that it's over in forty days
Quarantined bad dreams, a skull for a face
Know that I'll be back there to take my place
As another man dances through a stranger's days

Take seven from eleven and I'll pay you two
One for myself and here's a silver tooth
We're both burning rocks on the Fresh Up roof
A psychopathic liar and a lover of truth

She tells me again it's sin to fall down
High tales told in a cold northern town
She traces tattoos on my skin in the lost and found
I'm walking to a rodeo trying not to be a clown

Holding all the memories that are tearing me apart
There's a hole in my chest for a dead dog's heart
Take a bottle from the desert, drink in all the bars
Falling off my barstool trying hard to play the part

I got a mirror in my trailer that's cracked three ways
Look into it long enough and you can still see her face
Up to facts about it all, those long summer days
In the smoke and the flame, the shame and disgrace

We burned up all her toys and sold all my books
About the bones and the language and everything it took
To take a dollar from the boy with the rabbit's foot
Set fire to the skies, lie about all we could

Now we stand in the front yard and she slaps my face
The bed's got a hole from where the dog took my place
Driving around the East Side for days and days
Crawl into the backseat to hide my face

I call out for forgiveness into a hung up phone
Digging through the snow, a dog for a bone
Trying to bury all the memories before I hear a dial tone
A recorded voice telling me that I'm not alone

Sixty-three days in the Bellingham haze
Holding my breath for a measure of grace
Amazing as it might have been, it's not my place
To try and start it all to end again, both of us insane