In the Delaware of my mind.

I stand here blind

With tears in my eyes

Surrounded by the life

I’ve always dreamed

Thinking of you there

Alone and in fear

Knowing no one’s called in weeks

Except myself and another

Who I hope like I

Told you you’re loved

And have done no wrong

Like I’ve too

So often thought

Living year to year like a vagabond

Drifting through the mud of life

It’s hard but man it’ll be alright

Look West I’m here in the dead of night

Standing by this olive tree

In California I no longer dream

Living mine the best I can

Drinking with you

Hand in hand, walking I can see

The two of us, then cracking crabs

Pig Beaches on parade

Just two lost souls, now growing old

What’s left is yours to keep

For nothing lost is truly gone

Now Lady Garth I see her too

In the Delaware of my mind.

Through the air vents of my room

I’ve known a many artist in my day, say

Today old friend you come to mind

And how for a short time, your voice divine

Scratchy and old, though, you and I know

Age is just a number and it’s you who’d show

Me this: Dear, Gavin Heron Vante

Who needed a place to rest his weary head

For the night I offered you some bread

Where that night you had said, Ah man!

I haven’t seen this show in years, mind if I watch

Married with Children, Amen! Amen!

Then later I’d record you playing all the chords

I always had wish I could, watching your fingers

Slide and swoop through Sloop John B

I tried to sing harmonies but who was I kidding

Aloof in my eagerness to know everything and all

You had to offer and more, more, more I cried

Singing, drinking in the night like two old friends

Because we were in fact just two ageless nobodies

In the effortless night of somebodies

Giving me your time, cradling my wine

Looking through old photo’s now

I can still feel your spirit sing softly through

The air vents of my room

The next morning of course, saying farewell

Dropping you at Austin’s Coffee

Collecting your bicycle and taking the trash out for a buck

Needing my fix of early morning talkie

That I’m sure no one ever really gave a hoot about —

Now I hear you’re out of the Coma

That took you too soon like a phantom in the night

You were right when you told me

To take it easy man, oh man, Gavin Heron Van

Where there is no plan there in lies the plan

I now know the meaning of that age old saying

Those were the days, good sir, I give my praise

Sincerely,

Dave

P.S. There’s a place for you here, always

Manhattan’s in the Village

You know what they say, don’t yuh?

Can’t live with em, can’t live without em

But don’t get me twisted, I’m not talking about women

though the skin beneath my tongue’s still sore

my heart’s still heavy and well

there’s nothing quite like seeing her smile come morning

but anyway like I was saying to this jug of doom

in the evening gloom where I choose not one but two

and then two more to boot because, well, hell

who am I kidding? Nobody but the moon this evening

cause it’s this bitter sweet feeling

the kind you feel deep down in the rumbling, stumbling night

where it all gets so far gone, where nothing meaningful is born

where it all makes some sort of convoluted sense

and alas, once again I am but the floorboards dull creak

where I am like the riverbed flowing calmly and discrete

where life is but a dream and I am dreaming once again

of you dear friend, rustling like the leaves at my front door.

Oh dear friend, how I long to walk the beach again.

How I long to hear your sick, silly, sweet voice again

like those long ago up all Friday nights of old

all those Brooklyn winter blue’s and yellow streetlights

guiding us home, or at least to Crown Fried Chicken where

like two youthful bums we’d scavenge our pockets for change

enough to buy a couple chicken wings, coke, and pint

enough to settle the bone, cold, sidewalk snow till home

where we’d fall arm and arm up stairs

to that old wood, smoke filled, railroad apartment you’d call Grove.

And though I don’t often pray, in my own little way

I do for you now as I did then, driving back to my Long Island apartment.

I pray this little song of self, this little song of you, this small token of my appreciation

for your boundless soul and effortless style and class.

I ate too much cheese, I’d shout while holding a kitchen knife to my throat!

Where in a Polaroid our youth is kept,

where so many nights while you slept I wept,

where you’d give me your bed for a smile,

where I’d talk with Forest about everything and nothing for a while,

long enough not to feel alone in that maddening, crazy New York glow.

So I write this little poem, not enough but enough to show you

I’m still listening through the terror behind the walls.

Dear friend,

How are you?

I can’t live with you, but hell, I can’t live without you.

Manhattan’s in the Village

God knows we never had the scratch, aligned

I feel inclined to take this time and offer you my best

impression not impressed?

CALL ME SPIDER! CALL ME SPIDER!

I just had to get these salami’s off my back.

I just had to sing this short praise of you Mac.

His laughter echos out of mine

His laughter echos out of mine

for which I hear each conscious time

I start to somehow forget him.

And like a long lost tale of old

I hold my breath and accept him.

It’s there he says—my mothers eyes—

to live and love more gently.

My son it’s up to you this time

his laughter echos out of mine

and there we build new memories.

His final farewell

I recall the calm

as I recall the storm.

Lead foot hesitation,

the slamming of doors.

Endangered are many

who’ve less stayed for more.

Excuses are fatal,

not ours anymore.

See I recall quiet

death and coffin smell,

his mustache, beard shaven

estranged from the crowd.

Was I the unwelcome?

The burden? Expelled?

His name once my keeper

I’ve written it well.

Yes I recall freedom

wished upon a star,

a second floor window

alone in the dark.

The price no one bargained

unimaginably hard,

his soul like a raven

still blackens my heart.

A kid and a coffin

for now I recall,

the parlor room floor

dead silence in awe.

While tears spill to carpet

and jittering jaw,

echoed through the parlor

with no sign of God.

I recall the calm

the storm never ends,

it grows like a Cancer

bad thoughts fill my head.

His final farewell

is my cross to bear,

how no son of mine

shall feel such fear.

that old hotel

Each drive cross country

I’ve laughed, I have

Cried

Sang

Danced

Purged

Prayed

Lost and

Loved.

Etcetera,

etc…

So if you decide

to drive across state lines,

could you do me a solid?

Stop in Fayetteville.

See if that old hotel

is still standing,

the one I first told her I loved her,

—bedbugs and us—

before sleep took her away

and that cheap wine

nursed me tender

til morning’s

cruel light.

But how will you know

that old hotel? Well,

it’s just like all the rest now

I’m sure, remodeled to dust.

Another ghost among the many,

love’s whisper in the wind.

There’s this movie playing in my head

I never wanted to define you

Just wanted to walk calm beside you

But do I ever do a thing at all?

I never knew how to excite you

Just wanted to be like the fly who

Hung around loving your every move.

I never knew a second chance

As good as that first romance

A third time will only get you killed.

My palms are cold and sweaty now

It makes no difference any how

Like a has been actor thinking what’s the use?

I say it’s maybe

the way God made me

You say it’s crazy

that I’m this damn lazy

I’m addicted maybe

but it’s better this way

After awhile I’ll be all right

I’ll be alright, so.

I think I’ll watch the Super Bowl

Then re-runs of a TV show

Any distraction for two years will do.

I think I’ll start a private club

Then forget and invite everyone

Come one come all come make me feel good.

I never wanted to become

This ordinary silly chum

Up for hours feeling numb and blue.

There’s this movie playing in my head

There’s a plane a girl a detective

Who’s method acting’s got him nowhere new.

You say it’s maybe

the way God made me

And that hey baby

you’re a little lazy

but it’s better this way

this addiction’s crazy

After awhile you’ll be all right

You’ll be alright, so.

The thing that I am trying tell

The thing impossible to sell

A clear cut diamond people get confused.

I never wanted anymore

Than a reason to explore

The imperfections that I found in you.

Like that picture on the cellar door

A sad clown I just couldn’t ignore

His eyes were mine yes they were tried and true.

I wonder if no now I’m bored

I’ll take a couple then some more

Searching my pockets for my next excuse.

I mean anyone will do.

It was cold that year I remember well

I fell in love with her smile

like I had a choice?

She looked me over hell

felt like a little boy

It was cold that year

I remember well

Tangled blankets and sheets

that old apartment smell.

I fell in love with her mind

like an Etch A Sketch

She threw so many bones

like we were playing fetch

It was cold that year

smoke on the fire escape

I drew her in black lines

then shook but couldn’t erase.

I fell in love with her body

like it was a toy

We’d make love for hours

then a little more

It was cold that year

with Manhattan in view

We counted down from 10

New Years on Pia’s roof.

Ain’t it a trip life

you work just to get away

She fell so many times

I’d pick her up and say

You choose the road anywhere

let’s take a drive

Coast to coast man

we died to feel alive.

There’s a scrapbook somewhere

it’s unfinished but proof

That true love exists

and it’s in me and you

A crazy beautiful thing now

baby that’s the truth

I’ll finish it one day

till then this’ll have to do.

I fell in love with her eyes

bewitched under spell

At the flick of a switch

I could turn heaven to hell

If looks could kill honey

stare come on I’m your guy

I never loved her more

than when I wanted to die.

I fell in love with her soul

as she burned the sage

Expelling demons like a shaman

she was young and brave

It was cold that year

at the Macy’s parade

Her face covered in scarf

a perfect picture to take.

I fell in love with her frown

just to turn it around

I fell in love with her ups

just to carry her downs

It was cold that year

I remember now

The first night she slept

next to me safe and sound.

Ain’t life a gas man

you work just to get away

You get away then go home

wishing that you’d stayed

One more day in a motel

somewhere new

They’re always coming man

those damn check out blues.

There’s a memory somewhere

to take me back

Always underdressed and upset

baby that’s a wrap

I remember it all like it was yesterday

That’s why I wake up in love

with each and every day.

a double edged sword

At some point it

almost feels like

for such a long time

you’ve only been

imitating life, or

perhaps that

death would be better

than all this

wasted life you seem

to be faking.

But retrospect is

a double edged sword.

It all just depends on

which angle you’re taking

and whom

you’re gunning for

really I don’t know

so

whatever…

..

.