Thursday, April 21, 2011

Circa 2000

I Can't Believe You Did This Again

I've always wanted
to lay with you on the front lawn
Until all the grass dies beneath us
and all that's left
are our beautiful silhouettes.
Like a crime scene.
Because that's what this has been all along;
A crime scene.

The debris of this
lays everywhere.
But you still decided to give it another go,
because you didn't burn enough stuff to the ground the first time.
You're the dust on my mantle
and tv
and between my books now.
You're just dust now.
There's nothing I can hold onto.

And I used to think
we were something solid.
Mortared Stone.
Things you need welders and hot iron and giant hammers
to even chip away at.
But now I can't even feel you
when you're on my finger tips.

I guess that's good.
Everyone says it is.
It is for the best but I still miss you
and those upside down things
we said to each other.
But you're just dust now.
I can wipe you clean,
but you'll build up again.
You'll just build up again and coat this all in ashes.
I just know it.

Tuesday, January 11, 2011

For Maggie

To my best friend, whose feet may be gone from this place, but her steps are still on the sidewalk.

Coventry Darling

It's snowing on Coventry.

Each flake threads its way through bricks,
dressing the street in her hippy wedding gown.
When the snow piles up,
I remember you.
Lecturing me in my holy rain boots,
lined with nothing,
telling me I'm going to freeze if I don't get something better on my feet.
But everything's frozen lately.
My feet,
the street,
this city.
Still in the anticipation of you.
Still; waiting for Coventry's favorite bride.

You married the mountains,
but your pulse is beneath this concrete.
I feel it pumping,
so hard sometimes its tough to stand still on the sidewalk.
The street remembers us well.
Those nights we looked how we feel.
Those nights we gave up on getting home early.
Where we let the Cave's candles burn time,
where we let B Side see us
spinning in our highest heels.
Those nights.
I know its not easy coming home,
leaving blood behind,
but know the signs lose their saturation
and street musicians lose their turn,
Coventry darling,
until you do.