Cedar/Western

Was it spelled out
for you that day?
Was there a crescent moon,
crows on the fence
a lamp light extinguished?

It seemed so rare
a curve to take
with two lives rattling
behind him.

They say it was a pedicab,
which was coming down a hill,
and simply could not stop.
I'm inclined to believe that
you knew it would end
and I can't help but think
the pounding of feet as people
ran to you and yours helped you
shrug off the coils
and the fear
and sent you off
knowing something about
pure love.

found

See
Palm trees at shooting station
Fresh water lake
Whalebones
NARL / DEW line relics
Satcom Array
Point Barrow

The road out of here
veers in the sway,
that's the way it
looks as a road hugs water,
holds on to a cliff,
makes the promise
that the ending
will not repeat its self.

We are we

We are we.
You and me and the animal
make three. There's not
much more for anyone else.

I give my voice away
everyday, and at night.
I praise that folly
to every listening ear,
to every bad pretender
and to the mechanical
terror in the back room

Don't call out too loud.
I can't wish your birthday away
in a time when all the ghosts are
hitchhiking and all the dust
settles on more dust.

The Blue Angel's Death Song

The Interstate

No one is listening
to that sound we made
that played on the brief
and tender under-belly of the
FM band. It goes with a thud
and waves goodbye, making it's
exit in a beaten up van of
the most middle quality.

I'm not going to say goodbye to
the interstate veins that lead me
to you and you and you.
I want to see the inky darkness
of Donner Pass and the open
dawn spill out at the bottom.

It's good thing, here,
with all our friends.
The yard is the same
with them crowding in.

It's the sound of wheels
approaching, air settling
around the structure,
gravity making its point.

Sunday

In this sleepy place,
news travels at a violent pace.

Every night is a carnival, an ongoing funeral.

Street corners make an empty landscape
light changes colors to an empty curb
Sunday morning settles down
on a high mountain desert town.

A heavy head and a chest of regret,
The last thing you remember
was making a bet that you could follow the
meteor until it hit, but it was just
truck lights reflecting on the side of a house.