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  • in time…

    May 2nd, 2017

    was never scared…

    never…

    no…not ever…

    how long were you out there…

    six years…

    what kept you going…

    books and luck…some kinda’ faith…

    faith…

    yes…faith that there’s somethin’ keepin’ me alive…lookin’ out for me…some junkie on a subway car…a bum by Madison Square…a drunk in some tavern by Alphabet City…a whore on the corner…

    what about ’em…

    angels…all of ’em…messengers from heaven…sent here to…to keep watch…an eye on us…

    us…

    yes…us…the crazies…ones that slipped through the cracks…catching us in time…

    in time…

    yes…always just in time…

  • rain…

    May 1st, 2017

    rain has come…
    nothing is pure…

    not streets…
    nor churches…
    paths we once walked-down…
    practiced art of skipping stones…

    rain has a beat…
    rhythm
    yet no-one dances…
    the jitterbug has died…

    rain has come…
    nothing is pure…

    staying inside…
    fear of getting wet…
    cold…
    yet…this house will not protect you…

    we’ll always be scared…
    no chances taken…
    nice and tidy and dry…
    from what…what…

    rain has come…
    nothing is pure…

  • sure pop…

    April 29th, 2017

    we got somebody back there in the bedroom…somebody come to visit us…

    no pop…

    door’ s closed to keep the dogs outta’ there…

    thats right dad…

    Christmas time an’ nobody came to visit…

    it’s spring…

    huh…

    i said it’s spring…

    when’d you get here….

    last spring…

    what happened to Christmas…

    came and went pop…came and went…

    did people come to visit…

    yes…yes they did…

    did we have a tree…

    no…no we didn’t…

    thats a shame…your mom always liked Christmas trees…she’d decorate the whole house each year…same ol’ decorations…still looked brand new…

    yeah…

    there’s no-one in that back room…

    no dad…

    no-one come to visit…

    not today…

    what are we doin’ for New Year’s…watchin’ the ball drop…

    sure pop…sure..

  • the creek…

    April 28th, 2017

    I don’t know why but I’m havin’ vivid memories of my childhood this mornin…,the old man said…sipping on a Pepsi…

    there was this creek over in Oak Cliff where teenagers used to kill each other at…,rolled ice around…took another swig…

    that was a real fun place…electric company had wires over the water…we’d swing on ’em…jump in…camped there…

    all that changed when I found that kid there with a knife in his back…

    all that changed…

    he was a real close friend…

    thinkin’ ’bout my childhood…just thinkin’ ‘ bout that creek…

  • you…

    April 28th, 2017

    and spring has left me empty…nothing inside…all’s been wept…every last bit of soul poured-out for you…poured-out for you…

    morning is no longer morning…just another part of day…melding into afternoon…then the long…long…night…

    it is this darkened hour that i long for…to awaken you with kisses…naked bodies…love you…yes…love you…

    and spring has left me empty…nothing inside…all’s been wept…every last bit of soul poured-out for you…poured-out for you…

  • i miss New York…

    April 27th, 2017

    egg sandwiches on a hard kaiser at the Lexington Avenue diner on a Monday morning…Lolo workin’ the counter…

    $ slices in the midnight hour over by 24th and 7th…

    French fries covered in brown gravy with a pint of stout inside The White Horse Tavern…where Kerouac drank…and Dylan Thomas drank…and Mailer drank…and Ginsberg drank…and the kid down the street who ran away from an Indiana home back when you could afford to run away from home…drank…cheers…

    the deli at 72nd and 8th serving cold roast beef and cheddar with blood dripping on rye…

    Katz’s on Houston for pastrami…with mustard…do not order mayo…repeat…do not order mayo…

    lox and bagels at 2nd Avenue Deli on 3rd if you got the cash…note to self…always have the cash…

    $5 halal in Times Square amongst tourists and neon…and advertisemnts…and God Damned Good Morning America…a Starbucks on every corner…thank God the halal is holy…

    the knish we shared…

    i miss New York…

  • weeds…

    April 26th, 2017

    weeds grow in vacant lots where once stood factories…workplaces…deals were cut… contracts negotiated…now just weeds…just weeds…

    cute condos being built in old abandoned buildings…General Electric…Quaker Oats…a spaghetti warehouse…an old brewery…memories…memories…

    company picnics…Labor Day celebrations…cold-cuts and kegs…cold-cuts and kegs…kids got a hot dog and momma made pies…welcome to the middle class…welcome…

    pensions planned…retirements thought- out…assembly-line workers counting the days…the american dream complete with a place at the lake…fireworks on the 4th…bought over the state-line…shh…don’t tell…don’t tell…

    and these things we wish for…where are they now…cut-off in the middle of the night…pink slips passed…prosperity pissed-on…for a buck…for a buck…

    weeds grow in vacant lots where once stood factories…workplaces…deals were cut… contracts negotiated…now just weeds…just weeds…

  • thought I was somethin’…

    April 25th, 2017

    mom was checkin’ on me last night…,the old man said…,she sat right there an’ was talkin’ to me for the longest of time…,swigged on a Pepsi…,we were reminiscing ’bout old times in Dallas…back ‘fore you was born…

    mom’s gone pop…

    where’d she go to…she was here last night…tellin’ each other stories of when we were kids…just kids…

    oh yeah…

    she told me how nervous she was on our first date…didn’t know what to make of me…thought I was really somethin’…

    how so…

    well I worked two or three jobs back then an’ I never had time to think ’bout anything but maybe little of this an’ a little of that…mostly ’bout work…see I’ve worked all my life…never been without a job since I was a kid…

    thought you were somethin’ huh…

    she did…didn’t know what to make of some guy with a car and some dough in his pocket…not much…just some…thought I was Howard Hughes…,the old man laughed…,she thought I was really somethin’…

    you know we buried her this time last year pop…

    huh…well I’ll be…maybe it was a dream she come to me in…maybe a ghost…

    maybe pop…maybe…

    funny how ya’ forget things isn’t it…

    yeah…

    she would always remind me…take out the garbage…this bill is due…PTA meeting tonight…always remindin’ me…always..

    yeah…she was good at that…

    where’d she go…where’d she go…

    she passed away dad…

    that’s right…she did…sure thought I was somethin’…sure thought I was somethin’…

  • Midwest town…

    April 24th, 2017

    listenin’ to Monk at 3 this morn…Charlie down the hall leaves the toilet runnin’…his girlfriend yells out…,Christ…shake the handle…,and he curses under his breath ’bout how ungrateful she is to have a roof over her head and she wails…,get in bed…get in bed…, as i sit here typing away to all of america’s misery in the heartland where used car-lots…used furniture…used women are on every corner selling their wares to hopeless Joes who let the one slip away years ago into the hands of their best friend Bill…told ya’ he was no-good…told ya’…

    and now Ella sings I loves you Porgy while a deal goes down in the alley by the church where yesterday i prayed for forgiveness and for your soul too but is it too late…is it too late…hands are shook…a broad smacks her gum and drags on a menthol as cop cars pass by a green neon sign blinking…,Mannie’s Tacos…Mannie’s Tacos…Mannie’s Tacos…,in cursive of course…he was always fancy that way…chicks dug ’em…

    Chet Baker closes out the set with Funny Valentine…and i think of you…i think of you…,”don’t change a hair for me…not if you care for me…,” well do ya’…do ya’…

    it is pitch black…streetlights yawn…porch lamps cough an’ wheeze…cough an’ wheeze…with engines sputtering and middle- aged men moanin’…the kitchen colors go from bright to dim…bright to dim…

    and the day begins again…again…
    in a Midwest town that hope forgot about long ago…long ago…

    time for a danish…

  • welcome to Washington Heights

    April 23rd, 2017

    darkness of night…everyone lookin’ to score…crackwhores workin’ telephone lines…junkies chasin’ the horse down a back alley…herb sold here…meth sold there…Pedro has a line on an 8 ball round the corner from where you live…the playground that kids shoot hoops at…metal chains clank in the breeze…

    an’ the cruisers drive-by…eyein’ little boys who should be home in bed…Catholic school girls breakin’ curfew…bangers walkin’ pit bulls…blue rags an’ do-rags…gang tags…tattooed teardrops in honor of the lost souls left behind…may they rest in peace….rest in peace…

    drinks go down while clownin’ ’round with Jesse…Tamika…Lonnie…an’ Ray Ray…talkin’ ’bout back when smack was taboo…crack was whack….nowadays anything goes…for real man…for real…just tryin’ to keep it real…

    old men stumble-by…talkin’ of how the neighborhood’s changed…from bad to worse…should’ve seen it comin’…should’ve seen it comin’…

    but no-one noticed…no-one noticed…

    darkness of night…

    darkness of night…

    welcome to Washington Heights….

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