the meanness of work

They put up new buildings
as fast as they can
tear down the old ones.

One fall, one morning,
one more old building
with that ornate facade

is fenced in and blasted,
pulled down on its face,
and just trucked away.

Spring come the excavators,
cranes, steel and glass,
then twenty empty stories.

if I were a saint

if I were a saint

I would smile as you slipped

you would smile as you slipped

your sword through my heart

how we would be

in a painting of us

I would smile as we slipped

your sword through my heart

concorde on fire

here comes tomorrow

all on one page
tear gas at the border
kids in a cage

here comes tomorrow
shots across the bow
truth-tellers hacked up
but think of the Dow

here comes tomorrow
all unions are bust
rule by innuendo
bodies in the dust

this is the season
here come the bots
bow to your master
or line up your shots

your screaming only brings them nearer

not this fucking time of year again

[[ musically, a Christmas carol ]]

[[ this part in imitation of bells ]] 

not this 

fucking 

time of 

year a-

gain

[[ the sound of a church choir ]] 

all the skies are gray and lifeless (gray and lifeless)

all the winds are sharp and cold (sharp and cold)

all the roads are wet and icy (wet and icy)

all my bones 

two hundred six! 

the pops and clicks! 

the cracks and cricks! 

are so old

someone else's strange religion (strange religion)

someone else's hopes and fears (hopes and fears)

someone else's gongs and jangles (gongs and jangles)

someone's god 

three-headed -- weird!

one mainly beard!

all of them feared!

in my ears... [[ quiet, crescendo, and then the bang ]]

Bang! all the metal in your towers!

See if I fucking care 

Bang! all the metal in your towers!

Give all the birds a scare 

[[ a chorus imitating bells and singing in bell terms rather than Latin ]]

peal [[ repeated with combinations of the others ]]

nominal

quint

tierce

prime

hum [[ let this one be the last and lowest tone still ringing ]]

midden

This is our pyramid:

sixty-two miles high

six quadrillion tons

all of it open sky

all of it open sky

This is our pyramid:

a bottle of beer

drunk and tossed away

one million years

one million years

This is our pyramid:

dinosaur, buffalo

elephant, rhino

passenger, dodo

passenger, dodo

pink planet

[[ a song about women and men and mermaids and centaurs ]]

From a pink planet,

from the pink sand,

we all heard a sound

that left us unmanned.

"Come join us mermaids

here on the shore."

Sing us a love song 

we haven't heard before.

Never a one of us 

ever has heard 

a true love song.

On the pink planet,

we laid down our craft.

"Steamy," said a woman

preserved under glass

She was a remake of 

Venus Needs Ass.

.

"Steamy," said a woman 

pacing her cage.

She was a remake of 

Heaven in a Rage.

Then men on horses!

Or will they be centaurs?

One way or another

We'll be on all fours.

Cut to the mermaids

chewing on entrails, 

wiping their mouths

with the tips of their tails.

"Steamy," said a woman 

locked behind bars.  

She was a remake of 

Panther Girls from Mars.

"Steamy," said a woman 

stood under a light.  

She was a remake of 

night, night, night, night. 

From a pink planet,

from the pink sand,

we all heard a sound

that left us unmanned.

"Come join us mermaids

here on the shore."

Sing us a love song 

we haven't heard before.

Never a one of us 

ever has heard 

a true love song.

what do you see in the dark?

[[ Mine work, mine family.  ]]

daddy comes up 

from working the mine

black as sin

mama goes to him 

and strips him and 

scours his skin

come on up, daddy, 

and we can have breakfast

leave off that dirty old work

come and cheer mama up 

tell us a story

what do you see in the dark,

my daddy?

what do you see in the dark?

daddy works nights 

and comes out of the ground  

with the sun

mama feeds daddy

then says come to bed,

your day's done

come on up, daddy, 

and we can have breakfast

leave off that dirty old work

come and cheer mama up 

tell us a story

what do you see in the dark,

my daddy?

what do you see in the dark?

Bob

[[ I was reading the obituaries and listening to songs. Suddenly, Bob and Elvis. ]] 

I saw your face 

while I was listening 

to mystery train.

Why sixteen coaches?

Sixteen's always 

the lecher's number.

Why long black train?

Long and black are always

porn specifications.

This is the nonsense

I'd have told you

but you were dead.

Are dead. Be dead. 

Or not be dead. Ride 

the mystery train.

how a ghost works

[[ Some ways the spirit might leave the flesh. Some ways a place might become haunted. Don't ask too much. ]]

1. 

hit you so hard 

your body 

drops to the pavement

hit you so hard 

your soul 

stands still and wonders

2.

no longer in charge

your spirit

abandons 

your animal

the remaining

you becomes

sub-animal

animal-minus

snorting at nothing

animal-minus

watching the ghost

3.

shame fills you 

till you 

find a way to 

slip away 

disinhabit

inhabit

the nearest stone 

the guest room

any convenient tree

Lincoln Highway Blues

[[ It started with a quote in an article about the Beatles: "At the time I happened to be driving across the country on Interstate 80; in each city where I stopped for gas or food—Laramie, Ogallala, Moline, South Bend—the melodies wafted in from some far-off transistor radio or portable hi-fi. It was the most amazing thing I’ve ever heard." And there are fires now. And Ulysses and Leda peek in. And I took a Google maps trip down that part of the Lincoln Highway (30, not 80). And other stuff. But it's not about the Beatles or any of that other stuff. It is summer + radio + car + open spaces + America in the vaguest sense ]]


we heard you

coming through the radio

we heard you

humming down the wire

we heard your voice.

between the mountains 

when the mountains 

were on fire

we heard you

rolling through the barrio

we heard you

moaning through the wall 

we caught you 

going down ... 

the river 

where the river 

starts to fall

your voice was everywhere all summer 

they had to tie me to the mast  

and when the fever had passed 

I slept into autumn

I slipped into nothing 

I dreamt I was gotten

by something with wings

we heard you all the way 

from Laramie to Cheyenne

we heard you all the way

from Cheyenne to Ogallala 

I believe I fell asleep in Ogallala

and had an awakening in Davenport

we heard  you 

going down ... 

the river 

where the river 

starts to fall

we heard you all the way 

we heard you all the way 

summer is the season of fire

[[ summer wildfires ]]

someone set this mountain on fire

while we were sleeping 

coming back by daylight, you feel

the flame still creeping

this is where our home used to be

now all that's standing

is you and me

you see it on the horizon

you think there's plenty of time

and then the devil comes 

walking [[ two syllables to sound like a siren ]]

up your[[ two syllables to sound like a siren ]] 

street one [[ two syllables to sound like a siren ]]

house at a time

someone burned this valley down

while we were dreaming

you hear the roofs fall in on themselves

and horses screaming

this is where our home used to be

now the smoke's rolling

down to the sea

I think I heard somebody 

praying in the smoke 

to Santa Ana.

burned over

[[ have you heard of the "burned-over district" of NY State? This song started with that in general and the Millerites in more particular. ]].

Jesus is going to stroll

right up our block,

step up right there, next Tuesday.

Jesus is going to roll

up to the clock 

in our town square, next Tuesday.

Jesus is coming on Tuesday, 

next Tuesday.

to burn the place down to the dirt

Jesus is coming on Tuesday, 

next Tuesday.

and I sure hope it doesn't hurt.

Sell the house.

Sell the cow.

Sell the horses.

Do it now.

Jesus is coming on Tuesday, 

next Tuesday.

to burn the place down to the dirt

enemy in the wire

[[ I meant "enemy in the wire" in the military jargon sense of having an enemy within the perimeter fence (wire), but also to hint at listening in on the wire: electronic eavesdropping or even voyeurism. ]]

now that we all live 

life on the line

now we will all have 

an enemy in the wire 

sniffer in 

my underthings

have a whiff 

of this

enemy in the wire,

listening to me,

my classified admirer

hiss of the, kiss of the, hiss of the snake in my tree

eye to the keyhole

ear to the wall

finger in bunghole

tongue running, tongue running, tongue running over it all

enemy in the wire,

listen to me:

we will always 

be your enemy 

little breather on the phone

little voice behind the drone

you're nothing to the knife

cartography

[[ looking at a map of a country (any country) with political or social divisions ]]

look at this country

blue is for water

brown is for land

green is for life

the words do not really exist

there are no words

look at 

the red and the blue, 

and the blue and the gray, 

at the black and the white 

at the red and the white,

look at the green and the lines between

look at those islands of all that is new

look at those oceans of old

you could zoom in until 

those colored blocks 

became people

you could go 

virtually there

without going at night

let's not go there

look at this country

blue is for water

brown is for land

green is for life

words do not really exist

there are no words

dream construction kit

[[ well, I'm not sure where this one comes from. Something about bottled up feelings. Literally and figuratively.  ]]

in our dream construction kit

you will find... 

what you need to reach the back 

of your mind... 

every necessary part to 

reconstruct the human heart

figuratively

the pulsing of 

the human heart

figuratively

you build it in a bottle and 

you keep it on your desk

to show your niece and nephew

you were one of them

you were one of them

you were on to them

bottle my soul up 

and throw it 

far, far... out to sea

or 

bury it under 

the roots of 

the fa... -mily tree 

but someday it will come back me,
but someday it will all come back me,
someday it will all...
come back to me

I had an oracle

[[ It starts with a reductive yammer on life and then switches to a favorite theme of mine, Bede's sparrow. The first half is written in short chunks to be sung line by line, each almost independent of the lines before and after it. Then a shift to longer lines, slower rhythm, and all of it is the reported speech of the oracle. "She said..." ]]

I had an oracle 

tell it to me:

past, present, future --

all she could see.

There wasn't much,

all much the same.

We're all alike.

It's all a game.

I'll live and die,

and, in between,

be a regular guy.

Be a regular guy.

She said 

there was a sparrow

flew in one window

of a great hall,

a feast before a fire.

She said 

there was a sparrow

warm for a moment

in the fire light

and flew across the room.

She said 

there was a sparrow 

there for the moment,

that space of time,

then out another window and gone.

I had an oracle 

tell it to me:

past, present, future --

all she could see.

oid

[[ On the spectacle of people overdosing in their SUVs while the kids are strapped into car seats in the back. ]]

how did we end up 

dying of all things

dead in a car park

slumped in the front seat

kids in the back

wondering what on earth  

are we doing dying?

wondering how on earth  

we ended up dead?

there was my love

feeling all the love the love the love

in the world

there was my heart 

beating like my heart never beat before

then it stopped