07 May 2010

Hospital thoughts part II

5.He peered earnestly over his bottlecap glasses. “Ears are the window to the soul,” he whispered and eyed the orderly looking but not listening to us. They had taken his shoelaces too.
“You know. Ears are the window to the soul.” I looked out the window at birds moving that I couldn’t hear through the thick sealed glass. I run my thumbnail across the garden scene but it finds no purchase; not a crack in sight.

6. “I can hear you in there,” some asshole muttered from the other room. “Praying. It’s pathetic, heartbreaking even.” I tried to talk but the cat—I mean the demon—got my tongue instead and I dripped hot spit onto the cement floor.

27 April 2010

Hospital thoughts part I

1.Driving through this clapboard rural world we see the seedier side of the lord. His highway side cardboard signs scrawled, TRUST JESUS in unsteady sharpie. The crucifixion painted in rusting strokes on silent hulks of Chevrolet. A large and tattered faith indeed.

2. In the rain I let the blue roll down my face. Cold steel water runs through my nose and across my tongue with the taste of pennies. Each eyelash drops heavy dew and my ears flood with the roar. A washout streaming indigo till I know nothing else.

3. After you died for a while I couldnt do anything but look at my hands. I would rub those mortal pieces of flesh together and wonder what wonders they might hold before they come on home.

4. a thousand miles of tattered ribbon highway later, I dreamed of acts of unspeakable violence. In a field I would find myself alone beneath a sky whose vastness stirred me with holy terror. In the whispering dry grass, I would sit quietly in cutoffs with blood to the hem and a dark felt hat against the sun.
And somewhere out there, as the shadows lengthened, I would hollow out into demon of the blue desert nights with starshine cutting through to my bones. Whistling a little tune with the wind.

26 April 2010

my baby passed me by

o my baby passed me by
deep on the road somewhere in oregon. I put makeup on in the rearview. A bracelet and mascara in my eyes but o lord my baby passed me on. I just stood next to the asphalt, clouds rumbling and me wishing I couldve put some sunshine in my step, if only I couldve smiled and lit him up in the dark.

01 January 2010


time slips.