Graduation

Some four years
We used to be rolling in the grass
And the landscape was all smears
What an underhanded pass

With no time left to start again
We peer in each other’s eyes
For the things our tongues could not contain
Between the endless, pointless tries

We caught the last train for the coast
Wondering what would have been next to come
We became our fathers’ ghost
We sat silent behind our stacks of rum

February sent such a shiver to our bones
We huddled close around a candlestick
And painted faces on the stones
Hoping  Jack the Ripper would come quick

The day the sun came out
So used to dark, we squinted it all out
And since then we’ve been on our own
A handful of wishful, wistful rolling stones 

Drinking rye in the dance studio

You know

I don’t remember

How to kick off my shoes

And kick it to the blues.

I was never taught

Anything that can’t be bought.

And I sit there still, in place,

Frozen and lost in ancient space

Waiting for the night

I hear them shrieking with delight.

And no one heard them scream,

So they cried a little and then dreamed.

There were so little,

In this Universe, so brittle.

And I’m here, thinking

About you, loving, aching, drinking,

And I would pay for just one chance

For you to make me dance. 

Margarita

Fire
Is the Devil’s only friend
And me,
I’m there too.
And we were singing
Bye bye Miss American Pie
Laughing about the
Day we’ll die
And the piano keys
Were picked and tussled
Like a kitten’s fur
In someone’s gentle hands.
And we made a nest inside the
Church bells, and we swung and
Our screeching echoed
Over the sunrising land
Saying, Christ has risen
Truly
Sacrilegious, wind kissed and in love with you
But that was long, oh so long ago. 

Richest Man Blues

If we could have a dollar
For every time I lied
We’d have enough
To make a nest somewhere
Warm and soft
You’d drive a fast car
And I’d wear furs

If we could have a dollar
For every time I did 
You wrong
We’d be shitting dollars
And I’d buy you everything
You could want
Except my heart.

Oh don’t get me wrong, honey
I’d sell that, too
If there was something
Left to sell