108 Lines

Quiet in the backseat

It happened this way

counting telephone poles

on a South Dakota Highway

the ford radio played

I know I knew the song

But the harder I tried

I couldn’t sing along

Randall dam was here

years before me

for my satisfaction

I had to stop and see

No, not now

“Times are changing” plays

I count dead animals

in a bit of a haze

The next million hours

Was time well spent

Looking for secret places

Or where they went

Conversation didn’t matter

Eventually never does

The glory of quiet

Was what it was

Tornados came to dance

And so did we

In the hidden branches

Of the cottonwood tree

Accidental emotions

Dripped from the bone

No names were needed

Or carved in stone

I rode on ponies

Near passing trains

Melting in the meadow

Freeing my chains

The crescent moon shined

On my thoughts

And  naked feelings

Still left to be taught

A two room shack

 burst into flame

From my restless spirit

Both wild and tame

Sitting in the presence

In the matter of a blink

I had it all

Many times I think

I have been flattered

But then I digress

Another million hours

is anyone’s guess

At this moment

The breeze is free

backyard make believe

Is good enough for me

A train of thought

Or change of heart

Passive aggressive

I played the part

An empty shirt

On an empty kid

Without passion

It’s what I did

The song I followed

Changed each day

The dancers too

In every play

Three boys in drag

Exposed my blood

Many years after

“Before the flood”

Poetry was the fashion

In my circle of friends

Everything begins

And nothing ever ends

I’ve forgot names

And their faces too

They sang in French

Songs that were true

I looked down

On California street

Free up the hill

I planned to greet

With romance roots

Buried in deep

The dream became

To never sleep

There’s the fishing hole

And stage door drama

Rosaries and Buddha

And President Obama

My five dollar dog

And the plastic stores

Your favorite blond

Was emotionally yours

Crew cuts and long hair

Find long term lust

Jesus looks to Buddha

With uncapitalized trust

Was just a little lost

At the fishing hole

May I kiss you? Yes!

He captured my soul

Where shall I drift

No longer matters

I stroll to the garden

seeing what he gathers

3 thoughts on “108 Lines”

  1. For Larry & Brian

    I cannot know the struggles that you knew
    feeling like a secret and being less than ‘you.’
    But finally, in your moment,
    faces upturned toward the sun,
    more solid than the reasons
    and brighter than the seasons…
    love found, a life begun.

    I cannot know your shadows or your pain
    but I can see the flower brought out by the rain
    and I can feel the summer
    and winter’s passing chill
    and know that you are standing
    in the warmth of understanding,
    embraced by true love still.

    For those who never loved you,
    and those who always will,
    I count myself among the latter
    and know that you will always matter
    and fuck ’em if they can’t take a joke.
    (ta da!)

    A life well lived is the best revenge.

    Like

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