dmseay

how long didya think it was gonna take her ‘fore she caught onto your act…tryin’ to be somethin’ you’re not…some kinda magician pullin’ rabbits outta your hat…you can only play that trick for so long…’ventually they’ll see right through ya’…can’t fool ’em…may think ya’ can but you’d be wrong…

ya’ write her these letters everyday…drippin’ with honey…tellin’ her that one day you two will meet and walk hand in hand into the sunset…nothin’ could be further from the truth…

want truth…ya’ live like some animal in a rented cage…sure…ya’ gotta t.v. and a coffee pot…but not much else…what…some books for readin’ at one o’clock in the mornin’ when sleep eludes ya…does she know that ya’ live off a sack of potatoes for God’s sakes…don’t even think you can afford to put butter on ’em…

here’s what she wants…a man without any baggage…without any problems…a simple man to get her through life… someone she can lean on…that’s what she wants…

and Eddie…you can’t give that to her…you’re incapable of changin’…you’ve created this mess in your life of livin’ from month to month…day to day…somehow survivin’ off a what…ya’ must be real scared to tell her the truth…i know i’d be…

we live in this illusion…some kinda dream…thinkin’ it’ll all come through one day in flyin’ colors…everything we always wished for…all we ever wanted…but that’s not reality Eddie…reality is what you step into everyday…it’s the shit on the bottom of your shoes Eddie…it’s slippin on a pile of wet leaves left out through the winter time…nobody bothers to clean ’em up…they just lay there waitin to make somebody fall…

you’ve fallen boy…ain’t much ya’ can do ’bout it…just accept the truth…you can’t afford to have her…she comes at a cost…they all do Eddie…one way or another…one way or another…

kept to himself…
alone…
always wonderin’ what was on the other side…
some kinda magic escaped him…

wanted to live in dreams…
a place beyond real…
where folks live on clouds…
spells conjure up paradise…

scared…
frightened…
a nothingness took place in his soul…
how he wished to be filled…

beyond this world…
leave it behind…
life’s dreariness…
take this child now…

kept to himself…
alone…
always wonderin’ what was on the other side…
some kinda magic escaped him…

wandered ’round in the rain…hours gettin’ wet…lookin’ for a ghost from old…some banshee that used to haunt me…talked to me in my sleep…put me in a state of fear…we all gotta face our fears…

saw her behind a dumpster off of 8th Avenue…back of a video arcade where men bought tokens for a buck and women would sweet talk ’em…kids lunch money exchanged between glass…

she was cryin’…said she’d lost her looks…was no-longer able to make the grade…blonde hair turned gray…bottle of whiskey in her hand…a ring i’d given her long ago hawked…gone with dreams we had…dreams…

said she wanted to be ‘lone in this world…didn’t need a man…no lovers need apply…she got what she wanted…she surely did…guess ‘ventually we all do…

these homeless guys got nothin’ to lose…,Apostle Paul said, they just slit your throat and jump on the next train outta here…,lit a Bugler, I know these guys…they don’t care…as long as they get their next fix is all they want…they’ll rob ya’…mug ya’…kill ya’…it don’t matter to ’em…a fix is a fix and they gotta have it and that is that…,took a long drag…

had this little business open at the shelter…sellin’ loosies for a buck…you know how many times they tried to steal from me…this whole myth ’bout the homeless lookin’ out for one another is just that…a myth…,took a swig from a brown paper bag…,they all got addictions…every last one of ’em…guess we all do…some kinda demons…nothin’ you can do ’bout it…,tilted his head back and ran his fingers through his beard…

I’ll get it right one of these days…,he said, One of these days…gettin’ too old for this…these streets are hard…big city…small town…streets are streets…and all that junk is just runnin’ wild right now…everybody’s doin’ it…shootin’ it…snortin’…smokin’ it…whatever they gotta do…glad I ain’t on it…glad I ain’t on it…

gotta ‘nough problems as it is…gotta ‘nough damn problems as it is…

never knew what she wanted…kept her mouth closed ’bout things…I’d ask her simple questions…didn’t answer with a nod or a shake of the head…you’d think she’d say somethin’…never even heard her laugh…just silent…

I’d sit and listen to the wind blow outside for hours…it’d whistle…it’d wail…drafts comin’ through windows…figured she’d complain ’bout the cold…she didn’t…sat there in the rockin’ chair goin’ forwards and backwards til she’d fall asleep…a silent sleep…didn’t talk then either…no snorin’…just laid there like a baby…

wish she’d spoke up and said what she wanted…hard to read a mind…guess she was content…couldn’t tell…I just couldn’t tell…

where’d ya go to…, the old man asked…, just took off like that…where’d ya go…, popped open a cold one and sat down at the kitchen table…he wasn’t gettin’ any response…

I ask these questions ’cause I care…, pop said…, see you’re headin’ down a road you don’t wanna be on later in life…it’s a road to nowhere…just trouble…, lit a smoke…offered the kid one from his pack…boy just shook his head…

suit yourself…smoke ’em if you got ’em…that’s what they used to tell us in the Army…hey there’s an idea…why don’t you join the Army…see the world…get some discipline…could be real good for ya’…, kid just looked-on at a painting of a man sayin’ a prayer over a small loaf of bread…

didja’ eat…got some smoked sausage in the refrigerator…we could cut some up and fry it if you want…, just kept starin’ at that picture…

why don’t we start from the beginning…, he took a gulp of Old Style…,tell me why you wanted to run away…now I’m not gonna get angry…not gonna get mad…just wanna talk…, boy leaned back in his chair and blew out air…ran his hands through his greasy hair and smiled…started laughin’…, don’t know where to start…, kid said…, where do I start…guess it was just the wrong thing to do…runnin’ away like that…hear these voices and they tell me to take-off…can’t control it…don’t wanna control it…

better get ahold of it…, the old man said…,it’ll eat you up boy…I been runnin’ my whole life…, took another swig of beer…fingered a domino layin’ on the table…

what you been runnin’ from…you been here all this time…, the young one said…,ain’t never heard of you takin’ off…runnin’…you can barely walk…

it’s a metaphor boy…it’s a metaphor…maybe drinkin’ and runnin’s the same thing…ever think ’bout that…think ’bout it…think ’bout it…

I spose…

you sposed right…

he’d write these stories ’bout men takin’ off in the middle of the night from some small town…either hitchen their way ‘cross america…or buyin’ a Greyhound ticket…one way…never wantin’ to return…

people’d ask if these stories were ’bout him…if he was one to leave at the drop of a hat…skip town over the least little thing…broken heart…loss of a job…goin’ on a bender that never ends…leavin’ ’cause that’s what he’s always done…just ‘comes second nature…

when he was a kid he bought a one way ticket to Los Angeles…paid $99 for it…leavin’ from this small Midwestern town…headin’ west through Missourri…Oklahoma…Texas…New Mexico…Arizona…he remembered all that red clay…just mountains of it…like painted walls… all that cheap food at roadside joints where the bus would stop…Frito-pie eaten out of a bag…the night air smell of alfalfa in Indigo…purple landscapes…

and he was readin’ Sam Shepard at a bus stop in Fullerton…some reason he’d made his way out there and didn’t know why…didn’t know where he was goin’…just wanted to see this land of Sun…California…just walked ’round for days…no agenda…nothin’ at stake…not a dime to his name…not a care in the world…

called the old man to let him know he was out there…pop was stayin’ at this hotel downtown…blocks away from The Hamburger Hamlet…took him there for dinner… talked and he asked…,boy…why you always runnin’ away…? didn’t have no good answer…said he could continue livin’ on the streets like some vagabond…or he’d buy him a ticket back home…back home…where he’d continue to leave again and again and again…always on the road…always leavin’…

he’d write these stories ’bout men takin’ off in the middle of the night from some small town…either hitchin’ their way ‘cross america…or buyin’ a Greyhound ticket…one way…never wantin’ to return…

he used to watch snow fall for hours…fascinated by it…said he didn’t know there was such a thing til he moved North…never knew magic as a child…never saw a single flake…

but he’d sit there…all day long lookin’ at blankets coverin’ the ground…kids makin’ snow angels…sleddin’ down hills…steerin’ with their feet…plows makin’ music as they drove down streets and alleyways…

said he was gonna miss the white stuff most of all…more than the Sun or colors changin’ in the Fall…wished he could bottle it up and keep it…

felt saddened when it melted…knew Summer was on the front burner…Spring would just pass in the blink of an eye…never appreciated the new birth…just wanted to see white…

just wanted to see white…

he’d sit at his desk with papers all astrewn…bottles of air freshener…Suave liquid soap…unpaid bills…an empty bottle of Paddy’s whiskey…and copper cups with metal spoons inside ’em…used to make Irish Mules when he had money for ginger beer…

that desk was dusty…the whole apartment was dusty…bluish gray piles of stuff on everything…night stand…small tables…chairs…never bothered wipin’ ’em down…he’d just blow it off til the fluff hit the carpeted floor…not one for tidyness…

and he’d look ’round at his books on the shelves…layin’ sideways…some at sixty degree slants…others straight up-n-down…Don Quixote…the Holy Bible…Mailer’s, An American Dream…every book Henry Miller ever wrote…books that were bent…torn…stained…like a book should be…well read…used…

but sometimes he longed for the old days when there was a wife keepin’ everything picked-up…clean as a whistle…he’d sit back and watch the game while she knitted sweaters…hats…mittons for the grand children…he missed her touch…

now it was all just dust…surrounded by dust…didn’t know how to start the process of cleaning…didn’t know…

Sun shines on a church…
light reflects off stained glass…
blues oranges yellows reds…
a blending for the soul…

white snow glistens…
sparkling on earth…
beyond gossamer…
and crows take flight…

sky is blue…
a wrapping of God’s present…
while bare trees blown in the wind…
tis winter…tis winter…