Something to shout about

If I get to know you

From inside out

What more can I

Go on about?

The real feel

Under the seal of skin

Where there is no sin,

Where no lies lie

My truth and your truth

Rubbed raw

Scraping all that crap that

Clogs the pores

With all that superficial

Clap trap

We can all live without

I don’t want to go in and out

Shouting out like a water spout,

I want to get in and stick

Until I know the thick of it

What you are all about

Until in is out and flows

Out my mouth

Or eyes or pores

Until I’m soaked sore

And know all of you

And you, me

And that is something

To shout about.

See?

No other way

Everything

Should be different,

That ache for deep blue

When skies are gray

In a world

Where everything

Fights to survive,

Most folks

Look at this river

As a polluted mess,

Its sins spread across

Its shimmering face

As if it is to blame

When I know better

Feeding off something

Other than the fish

Or fowl that stir here

But the soul I find

Deep in the depths of it

That ever rising spirit

I used to imagine

As a kid,

Sailing these waters

Not quite immune

To its sirens

Yet not stopping up

My ears to avoid their song

Hating the darkness

The factories spew

Hating the stains left

By the evil hands

That dip into it,

I don’t pretend

This water is pure,

Only that without it,

Without some sense of it

Without the depth of it

I would diminish

No water is so pure

As we wish

Yet fish still swim here

Life still goes on,

And I come to this place

To find a piece of myself

And would have it

No other way.

Mutual distrust

Hank once told me that

“Sometimes

The only ones

You can trust

Are the ones

You can’t trust

Because

You always

Know where

They are

coming from,”

He saying this

In the front seat

Of a car

We drove

Up to Simon’s Rock

From New Jersey,

So he could make

up with the girl

He loved

And always thought

I was trying to steal

Only for us

To get so drunk

The most he could

Do was puke on

Her feet

When she yanked

Open the door

To ask,

“What the fuck

Are you two

Doing here?”

Hiding the two of us

From the college

Dictators

Until I could clean him up

And sober up enough

For that long

Lonely road

Home, he spouting

So many

Words of wisdom

We both forgot

By the time we got

Back to Jersey.

Me, remembering

Over the lip of

My hangover

The next day

That one piece of

Advice he’s spouted

Which hit me again

somewhere on the

New York Thruway,

When consciousness

Had left us both

In that dismal limbo

Of self pity

He thinking of his

Rich girl Cynthia

He knew he didn’t deserve

And me thinking

Of the distant

Girl who I thought

He’d tried to steal

And who I didn’t deserve

And neither one

Of us trustworthy

Enough except

To deserve each other,

In mutual distrust.

Great’s quake

I know great ain’t always what we see MoMa using for wall paper,

Nor speech, screeched at Bard’s balcony’s feet, the only measure of love

Or that love must always seem neat or easy or even complete,

Or that Romeo has to sip the drink or Juliet slip in the knife

Or that their fate is the only way souls like theirs can find peace,

Or that the embassy that connects must always be comic relief

To keep this fool’s tale from becoming tragic,

But I do know only a fool would ignore great when it shakes the world

A quake that makes the bones ache and the heart race,

And fills that space of mind so otherwise wasted

Nor should I be so proud as to not accept those small tokens

Cast out from the passing carriage with the great one inside,

Those small gifts given to humbled masses like me,

And I’m not so stupid (though I might appear that way at times)

As to believe I’m not a better person for all of it.

spy

He wouldn’t even give

His real name

That wraith that invaded

Me with claims of fame

Sticking camera in my face

While pretending to be

Someone he was not

Or would soon be,

Pumped up by the same force

That pumped up others
I knew, shaping him

And them into things

They could not be

But wanted to be,

The force who gave

Them bits of fame

For coins of silver

Always promising

But never as much

As the dark force took,

And seeing his face

Looking at me

Over the lip of his camera

I knew he believed

The big lie, too,

Just as we all did,

Some for longer

Than others.

Drift

I drift with the swift drift the river,

Even as I stand on the shore,

Coming and going,

Part of and apart,

Inside and out,

A confusing mix of rip tides

That draw me in

My fingers clinging

To the satin lace of fox tails

I know can’t secure me

Or keep me from falling in,

Nor can my feet be as firm as roots

Aching to dig deep into ground

I know won’t hold me

Needing something to hold onto

And something to hold on to me,
reading the reeds

As I did as a kid

Dreams filling the seams

With lacy faces of fancy ladies

Uprising out of the mists,

Whose songs draw me in and

Draw out of me

As I search out that face

In that space

With the ache

That face

Is looking back

And somehow,

Still connected,

Even as the river flows

Even as time goes,

Even as I know

I’ll hang on here

As long

As I have to,

Clinging to the reeds

And this river.

Blink

I blink and it’s gone

That will to exist

In a world so savage

My feet ache from

Walking over hot coals

Rituals of endurance

Tests of strength,

Of character,

Of will,

With me failing

As often as

I succeed

Why does all this

Have to be so

complicated?

Why can’t love

ever be enough?

Why do I always

blink when the world

seems brightest?

Why do I always want

What I least deserve,

Not just because I

Can’t get it

But how little I’ve done

To earn it,

Trust, unquestioning loyalty,

Me blinking when

I should nod,

More hot coals

To stumble over,

Not enough will

To carry on,

Not enough character

To paint me as

A proper villain

Let alone a hero,

Why do I always blink

When I don’t mean to?