Train Song

Burnt-out

Days are landlocked, minds divided and expanding
burning the edges in
photographs of nebulae, of burn-out humans
starred and scarred faces in the sky.
It doesn't matter that I don't know the answer to the question that is being asked:
there will be answers to come, but we haven't even conceived
of something anywhere like close to
whatever those will be. What answers do you need from me?
In Old English, a second ago was a second minute ago
and in Latin there is not a word for yes or no
and did you know that the hippocampus is a Latin word for seahorse?
The seahorse in your brain where memories make you,
photograph by photograph, it keeps your mind together.
Still, you're asking. What happened to that face?
He has stars in his eyes, I thought, while Will held a flame
to a discarded photograph and the paper seared gold
and the people pictured there became galaxies
and stars of jewel-bed colors in night and cities and in trees. 

 

 I don't understand myself right now. My poems are not good. My writing is not happening

but my mind somehow overtook all else and my synapses might burn-out too

like some William voodoo  

The 150 Friends Club

Oh my golly what a great song

Oh my golly listen to this band

Oh my golly I couldn't be more jolly

That they use my helping hand.

I lost him long before the fog rolled in,

the sound that sound cracks make

the glass would break

when I would be framed-

if I had known, I would have not missed handwritten notes,

the small signs amongst the hollering

and the erosion- the brick walls and the attrition

of something I counted up

brick by brick, counting myself safe

and if I knew he wasn't waving anymore

maybe I would have left the lighthouse and gone somewhere alone

but I am lonely

I miss him, I miss the swing of the lighthouse beam

calling out for him

i will find a way back to you

I had only one light  shining and it was for him.

I lost him long before the rocks came apart

and the lighthouse fell into the sea.

come back to me

I would say, but who am I talking to?
Myself, I guess.