I Stopped Running For A Month

I stopped running for a month and now death is close
swirling in the rain and the falling colored leaves
sounding like wind and strings and Andy Williams
the sounds of childhood and goosebumps
all the varieties of love you had yet to know

I stopped running for a month and can already feel
my abdomen slouching, hanging, my waist expanding
and don't think I missed the way that wild dog stared at me
outside of Starbucks this morning

I stopped running for a month and learned that sometimes
change is for keeps and that this work your doing,
friend your loving, child your cherishing, hand your holding
is not...for keeps, that is
call it luck, good fortune, a tease, or a loan
no matter how well intentioned
we can't stay.

Rest In Peace, Andy Williams

You Saw Me

Are you a quarter moon up there?
So brilliant and off kilter
drunk and brimming
with all you've seen below.
I know, you can't hold it,
and I don't expect you to.
The air is crisp tonight
and there is less peace
and more trouble than I can manage,
staring hard into the shadows, like you,
all these people carrying bags, wearing extra clothes,
thinking about killing you for your arms
while patiently waiting for
a book of baby names.

Music

listening to her broken English through the wall,
she's talking on the phone
saying nothing of substance sweetly
to someone in a language not her own
she hopes for something, deliverance maybe
thirteen and a half hour work days
seven days a week

Nausea

Feels a little like this

September Again

tonight, the wind
another Fall begins
the excitement and
swiftness of a
low grey sky
memory stirs, blurs
don't look directly at it
only at the motion, the colors,
just the feel of it and
the sound of very heavy rain

incense head

At least consider the possibility

that it won't go the way you imagine

you are, at least in part,

the author, the surgeon, the butcher

the ink on the page

the blood on your hands

at least consider the possibility

of a better ending, a plot twist,

all you might have to do is

get out of your way

 



 

Another One That Scared Me As a Kid

The Circuit

Twenty four straight hours of work
the last two half asleep on the floor,
bear witness to the circles we're caught in
the futility of saving one from himself
evaluating, questioning, confronting
mostly apathetic with stray moments of care
try to see who's in there, if anyone still is,
don't throw it all away
one is found on the dark highway
without papers or words, just a driver's license
issued by a state three thousand miles away
in coming to the hospital she learns
of a baby just two or three months away.

Same Shit, Different Day

Like a band around my head
the pressures of the day
you're the hot head, the angry one
today's another example of you
losing your cool
while the rest of them keep their mouths shut
but start complaining and talking behind the scenes
the minute the meeting is over
low grade politicians
a study in mediocrity and serving time
woe unto you who wants
to do something
other than sleepwalk.

Coming From Where I'm From

Coming From Where Sam's From

Sam is my oldest boy. He, of the three, looks the most like me. And our relationship is the most complicated. This week he started middle school in a new town where he knows no one. He brought home a writing assignment tonight. I'd like to share it.

 

I am from...

 

I am from my small room

From the gas station down the street

I am from a big family

From my small town

Rutland

From a mom who says

Don't forget to say thank you

I am from banoffee pie

My favorite pie

From the first day of

school

I am from my special box

Overnight Shift

All night she's coughing
getting up to use the bathroom
pacing, coughing, pacing
she wants you to listen to the noise
inside the walls
afraid she's being poisoned
all the time
she'd like to trust you
somebody
she wants to smoke
but can't have her cigarettes
until 6 am, until then
she passes the time
coughing, pacing, coughing
using her inhaler
keeping her distance
afraid of everything
in the world

Gently It Slips

Quiet here now
as the sun sets
on summer -
a cricket or two,
a blue jay,
the distant rush of
rolling tires.

There'll be more of this
as it gets colder
along with the sound
of the inside
of my head,
 

Let's Get Lost - The Whole Documentary

The soundtrack to this film is fantastic. I like to watch him sing.

I'm A Fool To Want

Play it once, play it slow

It'd be nice if some one some day plays quiet Mexican guitar with you in mind - a kind of tribute, because at last you became someone worth remembering. Maybe someone at the bar will raise a glass, staring down the years, understanding just what you meant. We deserve a soundtrack, all of us, with exclusive rights to the final edit.