everyone around you is greiving

Category: 2017: desert poems

everyone around you is grieving

black and red and velvet

alcatraz like the ocean

when you woke up

oh, death

you tired tyrant, you sleepy monolith of epic clarity, you heavy heavy air, you and your shelf life, you and your tired old obituaries and your faded paperback detective stories and your make-believe airports and your broken pencils and your unfinished crosswords and your late night secret-coffee-monologue-poems and your evening sketches, you and your serious blanket isolation, you, the owl to my wingspan, you and your secret cauldron promises and your sweet forgiveness, your bliss acceptance, you and your choose-your-own-adventure never-land dreams, and your secret crutch, your hidden misery, your red riding hood shroud and your sunny, perfect days, you and your clear glass fate and your mountains and your lakes and your wind, you and your full laughter and your full tilt exorcism, you and your axe –

oh, sad and heavy news

you unwanted guest, you silent waiter, you and your appropriate attire. you and your clean cut and your deep breath. you and your open krishna mouth and your endless dark matter. you and your forever sunrise and your endless night. you and your sudden whip and your instant forgiveness. you, the long distance traveler to my seasoned response. you the patient mentor to my grief. oh, sad and heavy news, won’t you, for once, join me in a prayer? won’t you help me turn back time? If it’s in your power to disassemble, surely we can turn the tide. surely, we’re magicians, after all –

I do not exist

there’s enough cloud

for the both of us

wild lavender

and purple sage


i still dream about her

white blinds

purple pigeons

her pure black hair

and that howling wind

I don’t mind

being late to the party

I was busy

I wasn’t sure you’d show

I sat on the cliff

I sang “Jane Says” to no one

I started bleeding and I didn’t care

the strings were so thick

the seaweed was everywhere

I waited so long

fire is death

wait for it to pass

this concussion

reminds me of losing you

and who we were then

and how you left

and how it hurt

and how sudden

it still feels

letting you go

is the pure blanket of clarity

that fills my days

touch the ceiling

touch the ceiling

break through it

The second time I committed suicide

I was knee deep in Cormac McCarthy’s All The Pretty Horses.

I recorded nine hours of Pink Floyd onto cassette tapes from a scratchy and faded Colorado station.

Lost in Santa Fe’s ugly summer, its angry cacti.

I quit taking my anti-depressants and bottomed out.

I downed the rest and headed for New Mexico’s endless oasis.

The green belt.

Think empty and rusted cars.

Sun faded porno’s.

Abandoned washing machines.

Suddenly, a dark and moody patch of forever-charcoal clouds shone on.

I found a wallet, with a bullet hole – pierced through.

I found a shady shrub and sat down.

I felt nothing.

And the Nothing was growing inside me.

And I realized I was dying.

Two songs found me then;

“Jesus Don’t Want me for a Sunbeam” and

“Things are Going to Get Easier.”

I remember spilling apple juice all over the place.

Taking off my clothes.

Crawling into bed.

I remember the stomach pump.

My lips were blue.

My hair was brown.

I remember the sunflower fields in Kansas.

Mom and I, on the road again.

And all those Black-Eyed Susan’s.

Winking at me.

i used to be a sunflower

i used to be the moon

i used to be an astronaut

staring down

at you

I want to collect records

like you collect rain

there is a tiny ghost inside me that knows I will die someday

memory and mantra

back and forth

music is memory

back and forth

my friends

died in that fire

there’s a picture of you

inside me


there’s not enough string

bring me

closer to you

love is acceptance

patience is flowers

plant everything

go broke

love is acceptance

patience is everything

plant flowers

slow down

wind and fire

yr hair in the neon sun

we were summertime gloves

kids against the world

reverse echo

the dogs on my block

set off car alarms

the mellow in me

is at war with everything