they have left…
where…
don’t know…just left…
yep…they have…
while ago…
when…
some say years…who knows…
don’t…
d’ya leave them…
could’ve …maybe… reached out…
sure…yes…
it gets you nothing…
what…
olive branches…loneliness…vulnerability…why bother…
tell me…
they are gone…
yes…they are gone…
left huh…
they have left…
listenin’…Chet Baker… lost soul…desperate voice…something to hold onto…awake…haunting…baby…fuck Sinatra…
hard times…hungry…cold…broads…just a smell at night as you lie awake…to dream i dare do not…
age isn’t pretty…drink isn’t beauty…heartbreak…well…heartbreak…
the artist’s life is ugly…marked with lines and dark circles unattended to…
midnight strolls… language heard in bars…crack-dens…tent cities…subway trains running from North to Southside…nodding off with nothing to your name but a belief in the next line…another note…the canvass awaits…
never bowing to authority…money isn’t the object…nor heaven…
get lost…just get lost…don’t look…i don’t wanna be found…
listenin’ to Chet Baker…haunting…
baby…fuck Sinatra…
he’d stay-up all night…playing video-games…watching pornography…plotting wars…
used to see him ’round 3…stumbling to the toilet…tissue in one hand… Pabst… the other…
didn’t talk…quiet fellow…a real Gary Cooper type…had his reasons…nothing exposed…better-off that way…
and gunshots were heard after midnight…cop cars racing from time to time…trains whailing…
nothin’ from him…not his voice…just a television set running 24 hours a day…moaning women…soldiers letting off steam…a blue-light flickering in darkness under door #2…
this was his life…
his…
there’s a gap of six days…
yes…
no writing…
right…February…was in Bellevue…12 West…one ah’ the crazy floors…
why…
well…you go to the crazy floor ’cause you wanna kill somebody…or…kill yourself…
and…
that’s the longest i’ve gone without writing all year…
really…
yea…some guys fish…some guys fuck…me…i don’t know…it’s just what i do…
so you were in Bellevue…
yes…second time…
second…
yea…walked into emergency back in 2011…that was a hard year too…
why…
hospitalized in Iowa City…Yale in New Haven…Presbyterian Uptown…Bellevue…
how many times have you been hospitalized…
i don’t know…close to thirty…last year was a lot…Indiana…St. Louis…Kentucky…Bellevue…
always the same…
yes…yes…still crazy…after all these years…
you said people are hospitalized for either wanting to kill somebody…or…themselves…
yes…
and you…
me…i…like walking in the park…when it gets late at night…move ’round in the dark…
not going to answer that one uh…
and leave when it gets light…sit around by day tied up in chains so tight…
do you look for peace…
said…do you look for peace…
yes…yes…don’t you…
* a special thanks to Paul Simon(Still Crazy After All These Years)
*and a special thanks to New Order(Subculture)…as well…
these whores i’ve known…
yea…
yea… talked to…nothing high end…just… common… street/crack/smack/boyfriend pimps/runaways/you get-it…
sure…
would talk to them…just…talk…Port Authority…drop-in centers…shelters…under… viaducts at 3 in the mornin’…when all God’s children are fast asleep…
uh…right…
and they tell me of troubled pasts..their pasts….fathers or no fathers…mom’s lovers fucking them…punches in the face…a kick to the crotch…by businessmen…um…businessmen…
heard dat…
all that suffering…for what…what…$20 and a mouth full-of-cum…no promises made…
who are you…jesus…
talked with these whores…listened…nobody does that anymore..
what…
listen…listen…everyone’s stopped talking ’cause they know nobody’s listening…
true dat…
we owe them an ear…
we owe them…
yes…
why…they be a bunch ah’ hoes…
yea…so…cast your stones…go-on…do it…
man…you be one crazy mother-fucker…
yea…O.K. …okay…
kiss me…
kiss me at this light of red…
kiss me…hands in pants…til it turns green…then we’ll go…we will go…
kiss me…with soul baby…lean over the arm-rest…grab a handful of hair and lay one on me…kiss me…
kiss me…a fool who’ll follow you down this road to insanity…craziness never felt so complete…
kiss me out on the highway…rub my legs…arms…chest…Eskimo style…cold noses rubbed together like kids at camp…lips placed on my heart…yes…kiss me…
kiss me…kiss me…kiss me…never has a mouth tasted so good…it is you that keeps me up at night…so near…far away…these kisses keep me…keep me…
kiss me at this light of red…
i won’t tell anyone…
i won’t tell anyone…
you wanna get outta here…
go somewhere…
where…
anywhere…don’t know…
bored…
well..
said are you bored…
yes…can we just go…
anywhere…
yes…anywhere…
hungry…
I don’t know…maybe…
like bein’ little pregnant…
uhuh…tired…maybe just tired…
sorry…
for what…
this…this life you live…
this…
yes…this…
mmm…this ain’t no life…just an illusion…a wait station takin’ me to my destiny…
see…
soon I’ll be outta’ here…gonna’ wind-up somewhere…not sure…who knows…
wanna get outta’ here…
go ‘head…stay here…
an’ do what…
I don’t know…wait…just wait…
wait…
yep…just stay here an’ wait…’ll be alright…you go…just go…
O.K. …see ya’ later…
yep…see ya’ later…close all the windows…
beautiful ‘side…
close ’em…an’turn out the lights…
turn out the lights…
yep…turn out the lights…the party’s over…
was always into something…looking… affairs of no concern…
just nosey…’spose…a real gum-shoe…or…maybe an analyst…attendeng to souls of the underbelly…no-one does nothin’ for free…
always thought do unto others…to the least of your brethren…the least…mmm…
and this judgment comes from you…chief inspector…a real Dick…best of intentions…fallen short…
exhibit A)…in spying upon this broken soul…discovery of madness…conversing with no-one…on park benches…public toilets…parks an’ recreational facilities…you were seen…
and B)…pictured here in strange attire attending a mating ritual of the Northern Yak…don’t deny it…here’s the proof…smart guy…
days numbered…double secret probation…we’ll show you…
mmm…yes…count on it…
what is left of this…
‘spose…
nothing…
nothing…
‘spose…
d’ya ‘member the time we…
what…
nevermind…
no…
we talked…
talked…
yes…talked…
mmm…
not yelling…nor interrupting one anoth…
no… no I don’t…
right…
and you…
me…do i ‘member…
yes…
uh…no…no…
and that tells you…
it’s time…
uhhuh…’fraid…
O.K. …so…
see you ’round…right..
yea…see you ’round…
walk along river-banks…Hudson…Mississippi…Chicago…lookin’ at the mystic…haunted…what lies at the bottom…i wander…
cities of sinners…goin’ down to the edge…crimes never washed-away…no matter how many times a preacher’s hand heals…not ‘nough…
New York…Chicago…St. Louis….misdeeds…misfortunes…prices paid for needs…wants…cravings at four in the mornin’…kept awake…not an eye shut…
get me to the river…i’ll cleanse a soul that’s been longin’ for years…stolen money…affairs at midnight ‘neath a hollow moon…lies told in diners…shelters…drunk tanks…dives…river take me in…swallow me whole…
choose a burial plot…The Hudson…Mighty Mississippi…The Chicago…know the shallow…know the deep…inviting…just a drunken dive away…
this is all i ask…tis all…
what lies at the bottom…
thousand souls like mine…
dmseay 