No More Trees, Money’s For Me (day 2064)

It’s ok that we cut down these trees for warmth
Let’s not get upset about our mountain
Turned crater, shipped to the moon,
Our water is a good memory, a clean memory
A clean memory for my dry lips
Afraid of this purple water
Maybe my dinosaur bones will take me home
To a land full of ten year old trees
Where water flushes the land clean
No more dirty top soil: eroded,
Home where the magical golden clouds
Hover just above the skyline, stinking
And water is just slightly brown
Mycelia? No, my bill fold needs more dinosaur bones
To sink into these fresh water lakes
Chopsticks, chopsticks, chopsticks trees
Get these poles off to the mill
Down that road of rubber and oil
More dinosaur bones and I’m ready to kill
Floating at 70 miles an hour
In plastic rocket ships, towing plastic bricks
And you there, strange looking person
How many toes do you have? You’re not one of us
Your skin is funny and your smell’s different
Let me see your papers that say many things
I don’t believe you can grow your beans here
See, my dead trees and stretched metal rings
Say: ‘NO TRESPASSING’
Get out, leave us alone
You’re filling us with lies
Unless you’ve got tits, beers, football, and guns
Money’s for me, and less of you.

Moon at Midnight – Part IX (day 1983)

(part VIII)

That first night Amy put an extra serving
Of stew on for me
With the most delicious dumplings I’ve had
This side of the Mississippi
And a most rare treat of cookies
I couldn’t say no to
As we ate, Clarinet’s big eyes
Kept finding me and we’d laugh and giggle
For I wasn’t used to strangers, either!

I did not have any of Frank’s ferments
That he had made himself
And was quite proud of
I had sworn off any alcohol
Since the devil had taken Emma, my sister,
Off with her and a shotgun
But this I didn’t tell ol Frank
Too kind of a man he was.

As dawn broke, I was already awake
I had elected to sleep outside
Beside their fire pit
Keeping a low fire going for most of the night
That affording me some enjoyable heat
And kept the dogs close
I was eager to see more of their spread
Which I think Frank picked up on,
Showed me his garden,
They had two sheep and one goat
The goat they said was a wedding present
From Amy’s parents
And two good looking quarter horses
He was very proud of.

We decided that the best thing I could help them with
Was to help fall two cedars
And buck and chop for the oncoming winter
They were already quite prepared
But I could see that Frank was a smart man
And knew what needed to be done
When somebody was asking what could be done.

At first we used his two-man saw
That must have been two meters long
To cut down the carefully selected trees
You don’t really know the sound of a falling tree
Until you’ve stood on the ground that shakes
When one of those silent giants falls
The two that we picked were about
Sixty cm in diameter
And with Frank’s well kept saws
We had the both of them on their sides
Within half an hour
For the rest of the first two days we made our way
Up and down the trees
First cutting off all the branches
Then bucking everything into
Thirty cm rounds
It took the better part of the next three days
To chop the rounds into
What could then be used in Amy’s warm oven.

part X

Memories Walk (day 1867)

I think a stranger walks away
Knowing from all a little more
Every time he steps outside
And leaves behind his mopped floor.
I think a parent walks towards
The object of themselves
To feel attachment in everything,
Mind, body, spirit, and soul.
I think a lover pulls towards
Sweet nectar of every fruit
To behold grace, to sweetly ignite,
Set fire to burn the loot.
I think a friend never knows
What brings them back again,
And if they do, they’re surely reckless
For nothing stays as memory remains.

Ode to a Small Rabbit (day 1842)

You there, bouncing everywhere,
What alerts you, I’m sorry I’ve scared.
Bounce away, hop along
I am not here to cause you wrong
I am just a passing stranger
Who lives across the way.
These are the plants that I have sown
This is the grass that tickles my toes
And now, see here, we both can share
Bounding here and there and everywhere.

Dog (day 1547)

Your dog is alone,
I’ve watched it there for some time
Helplessly humoring passing strangers
Who stop and speak English to it
Like it’s an infant,
Also unable to understand
But slightly more irritable. 
I am unable to really feel the pain
Your poor dog must feel tied there,
Bowing – sitting – to other’s commands
And letting unknown humans
Stroke their pampered hair
With greasy fingers,
Who knows where they’ve been!
What choice does it have?

Stepping Out (day 1538)

This takes time.
Your neck scratches
Twist heroin like
Spirals towards starlight.
Your heavy steps
Nick solid wood,
Pick pocking veneer
With thumbtacks
For random acts.
Your tight lips
Close proud moments up
With smeared lipstick
That’s left on
Too many strangers.
This takes time
To get this way,
And it takes time
To step out.

Lipstick-Sad (day 1532)

Imagine the soul of a man
Walking streets past midnight –
Mini skirt and platforms
On a warm clear-skied romance.
But it’s not romance without a date;
Sidewalks scream lonesome
With a handbag and lipstick-sad
Long eyes on a Thursday.
Imagine the shoes of a stranger
Who yells inside a locked door
Made-up and scraping edges
Without a namesake callin’ them home.

Dreams in the Key of Darkness (day 1343)

Sometimes dreams don’t leave room for imagination;
Waking with a fright and deep recollection.
Hollering into night cools my lone wolf.
I’m a man of slip-slopping recollection,
I dine with strangers who share my wine.

We beg for answers when we’ve shown no mercy.
We all do.
It’s the cruelest of tortures that bless us rancid
Until our feverish states blow our sails full.
Darker seas then any wind-swept sailor would care to see.

Rupturing up my torn soul
I do continue to howl in my brief waking hours
For my window has closed and my feet become sore
And my alley of sinister has just become cold,
To await my march as darkness in greeting.