Chainlink memory
In the dream state of night
Unshackled reality
Through a window of light
Which pours like rain
And puddles my sight
Until ripples reflect
My Goldfinch in flight
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I play my part as she sings me to sleep
Taylor calls for me from those stairs in Italy
I’m walking by a pay phone on the beach
Reminders from the East and a girl named Cicily
Talk me into circles out of reach
Send letters won’t you son to remind us what you’ve done
Don’t be a stranger call us once a week?
I buried what was left of my heartache in a trench
On that lonesome stretch of sand I was released
Now Bret he reads the lines in the background of my mind
There’s no one in this room to hear me sing
When journaling in thought feels like a raven’s claw
It’s Taylor who sits calmly next to me
The grass rests underneath her cheekbone by the sea
While chemicals channel flowing dreams
It’s 8am in August while I pour the gin and tonic
Listening to the ocean’s cresting wave
The cobblestone in Rome for which once walked me home
Now Cicily I hear her gently speak
There’s no such thing as time, if you believe that then that’s fine
But darling I’ve got no tears left to weep
I did my best to please the priest listening to me
Still Lucas rest assured me of my grief
I didn’t have to sail to France to find a girl to dance
I just went out every night for one last drink
So now as Taylor calls to me from those stairs in Italy
I pick her up once more from memory
I play my part as she sings me to sleep
I pick her up once more from memory
I play my part as she sings me to sleep
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.
Words Of An Average White Male 