out of control console,
every button takes it’s toll;
pressed into service,
pressed to cajole —
lit up, no longer doing
what it’s been told.
madness manifold —
well beyond threshold,
flesh warped
as mind loses hold;
remove the blindfold,
you’re controlled by
an out of control console.
on the road
with the dead beats;
skeletal remains
and cut up poetry.
desolation
and a radio god,
a mad howl
dismembers
the human highway.
Sal Paradise lost
while ghost women
line bleaker streets,
’49 Hudson
hauling the corpse
of America’s retreat.
thumbs up Jack
straddles double
line —
drive right
through him
or conform to
Moriarty’s mind.
city lights
read dead ahead;
drunken doorways
scream out
funeral jazz —
spontaneous specters
from a world
gone mad.
People pass
through
a dark place;
No longer
the person
they choose
to erase.
Addition by
subtraction
done in haste;
Life displaced,
never to be
replaced.
Close my eyes,
see their face;
Was there something
I didn’t say?
Was there something
in the way?
I’m lost in a dark place.
History’s
removal erased,
gone without trace;
society unchaste —
replaced by hate;
greed incarnate.
Devil’s dictate,
born too late;
the Watchmen
wait —
duty to warn
born in haste;
mobilize or
be laid to waste.
Stand in
solid state,
unify or incinerate;
flames fly to
intimidate,
burn the lies,
Election Day.
at main stage
you lie in wait,
he meets you there;
rolled out,
surgical white,
no one knew
if they’d play tonight…
he performs
a stand up collapse
in reverb relapse;
the crowd roars back!
as he rises from the ash
to completely drain you.
the quiet angst
as loud settles in,
bassline bounce,
drums hammer in;
his scream lands
like a heroine
in need of
a thousand easy friends.
raw sound, raw rage
pumpin’ straight
to your heart,
as you jump start
in the dark;
flash bang lights,
roaring guitar,
but he knows
not what it means.
at main stage,
up close, you see
the boy in his face,
blonde hair no longer
down to his waist;
you dance in place
high on a plain —
there, you found God.
my goodwill gal
greets me with
a spend thrift spin;
twirls a whirl,
and invites me in.
met her there —
by circular rack;
her lush smile says,
“eyes up here, dear”
with zippo lighter laugh.
she deploys
her spend thrift clothes
spinning atop an island
of bell-bottom corduroys;
her price tag shows,
cost of admission paired
with her mint gemstone alloys.
in dressing room
paisley prints and
lightly worn avenues
hang from her helicopter arms;
she has the skill of a woman
that buttons down men
caught by her secret charms.
she’s snags a t-shirt widow,
a co-opted window
to graft on top of me —
I become her man in window,
she pulls over top of me;
our time together crescendos,
“25 cents,” she says,
“is clearance to feel free.”
heart shadow,
love shaded in disbelief.
heart shallow,
love’s roots never reach.
heart mortal,
love wanes in deplete.
heart fallow,
love’s death lover may reap.
heart universal,
love readily refills til replete.
heart fertile,
love’s rebirth lover may keep.
heart eternal,
love never misses a beat.
retreat —
take my leave;
all packed up,
feeling empty.
look —
down the line;
stood over despair,
right over there, last time.
wait —
platform breeze;
soon to be seized
by stranger company.
count —
time feels grim;
all cashed out
as train whistles in.