Happy go lucky
Lanky and free
The man with several women
Who wakes when he wakes
In a barn with a batch attached
Cigarette lit before coffee
A cliche repeating joke
Mixing nostalgia with stubborn low wit
He gets into his old rusted out datsun
Winds down the window
Hoiks a loogie
Pulls a burnout
Meets the shitkickers for a snack and joint
Nothing's new the world is small
The urgent child is still navigating his restless mind
This stretch of the river is trecherous
The riverbed littered with broken wrecks
This part, many a boat capsizes
Taken down before they realize
Whatever lives under its banks
Unseen giant teeth tug claws yank
Consumes the helpless
surface blood boil mess
The current is not natural
Flows contrarian and lateral
water courses randomly through
Convincing eyes that lies are true
Like a hungry serpent searching
Bodies of drowning merchants
through the dark depths
among the old wrecks
This measure of the river is deadly
Something curls willow roots warily
Stay inside the safety of your boat
Grab rudder, pray, you stay afloat
If you hear a knocking underneath
Attend it not less cetain death
what they tell us in the night
What they want in the day
What they hint at on the phone
I try not to be ashamed
I always want to say more
But it's just soft sand
Wanna be rock you adore
Wanna be grand
What they tell me underneath
Subtle hints I cannot read
They tell me they're a feast
And that I'll soon feed
Tell me through telepathy
I gather each piece carefully
Digest, misunderstand predictably
What they say is lovely
Is there a jar?
It's too sweet in here
Each surface is sticky
The abholstered seat, furry
The sugar seems to have its own smell
The boiled candy awaits fingers
Like a cinema screen awaits eyes
The aisles littered with popcorn
Sarah ajar
Waiting for your mother
Sarah stands and the seat flicks back up
Sarah sees the closing credits come down
But where is mother?
Where is father?
She has been abandoned
With just a jar of boiled sweets
Ive seen the speckled cat
The treasured wall where it would bask
I have seen the signs
The road is long, the road will wind
I've seen the speckled cat
Found the rare penny
Rusted from the rain
stuck inside the tar
I patted the cat
the past spoke
It yelled
It drove onto the shoulder
I patted the cat
The past whispered
It calmed
It breaked toward the intersection
I've seen the speckled cat
It meowed at my arrival
It stared at me
As if the road itself was mine
The way was blocked by rubbish men
Gruff and impatient menacing even
Standing together intimidated
I just wanted to get through
I just wanted to have what is mine
The tunnel was closed
And they made some quick quip
in their speak in their lip
I didn't get it
But must have been funny
The sun angled down
It was trying to heat the morning
Inside houses that faced eastward
Windows facing welcomed the rays
The sun came in like a welcomed visitor
Smiling in through the glass
reaching for the coffee
looking down into it at its own reflection
Pulling out before midday to migrate across the valleys
Visit the rest of the inhabitants whose houses face westward
He walked across the pavement though the garden fence
All the way into vacant frigid garage spaces
He shook my hand that day
Told me all was right with the world
I took his advice
and relaxed
