lyrics | fictions | episodes, ©2013-2019
Hope came in the form of a
shadow
dark and terrible
threatening everything
at the bar
at the end of the street
I was suicidal with joy
and at the lonely table
top
at midnight
sipping sweet despair
spinning
secrets of the heart
in another tongue
for the dog to howl at pretty
soon after it disappeared
like I said
it would
left me here alone
cross-legged on the floor
with the fierce
sun at its zenith
casting zero.
blank like the stars are blank
and the leaf
and all the leaves
and the carpet
and the ceiling
nothing brings relief
when not even love has meaning
only breath
only breathing
things fall apart
cannot be repaired
for that reason
we sometimes despair
a path leads up the field
towards the ridge
then peters out
they should put an archive
of broken things up there
where uncertainty
meets intangible air
at first light
I could photograph them
put them in a book
a resource for all the world
it would only take a moment
to flick through
we are disposable
even the things
I could not photograph
belong up there
past care
thick
with morning coffee
desolation
despair
these are common coins
everywhere
hang a curtain across the day
build an imaginary marina
and go sailing
sun dappling the water
white apartments
reflecting in the bay
take a deep breath
stand back from the edge
the wasp knows no compassion
no remorse
it will sting and sting again
until it dies
we have built cathedrals
to the stars
we only need a cowshed
in our hearts
to find some peace
pray for peace
so beautiful
the view from Sacré-Cœur
it made me weep
just north of lonesome
by several degrees
more lost than someone
has a right to be
in boots so tight
they shredded my feet
I consulted the void
that you left me
and demanded an angel
at the very least
in a shining jacket
high visibility
to descend at midnight
oh glory be
and pull those damn boots
clear off of me
Welcome to the party
that occurs every day,
under an awning
blue often grey.
The music is painful
and frequently martial.
and people pass by
in tears or in laughter.
If anyone asks
don’t say that I told you,
those who invited me
both died years ago.
I stick around
for something to do,
awaiting further
instructions.
Welcome to the party
that occurs every day,
now that you’re here
you will have to stay,
please don’t think
you can just slip away
until the bitter end.
And it is a bitter end.
