Here

This faithless town
is where
even YOU
are suspicious,
you callow and
pale gentry's son,
you parasol-daughter.

This is that little corner
of the coverage map
where cell service
is a
big
white
gap-toothed laugh
in the face of modernity.

Here we
find fear and
paranoia as means
and not maladies.

The worst part is
this may be
one of the better neighborhoods.

Catfish start to poison themselves
in bottom-feeder suicide
and take us all down with them.

TVA pulls out, cuts all ties.

The dams break and our fields flood again.

"HERE, IS THIS WHAT YOU WANTED"

All the nice antibiotics and heavy metals just floodin'
right on up to yer doorstep.

Reckon how much mercury go for at
the scrapyard?

Y'all happy yet?

"The Graveyard Sure is a Lonesome Place"

Shifts come out
whistling steam whistles
whistle in the dark
cold
sausage stink
and like
Ol' Choctaw chiefs on the run
they hit the
pavement
in deerskins and
war paint.

So
the ghosts
patch the holes
in their soles
so they got
boots on a glass-half-empty
full moon, Magha Puja to be exact.

Pullin old
light-moon food engines
in the winter's glass-half-empty
Heart ghosts.

Well take the furniture please
because I always thought
under street orange
you might
hate me so
dearly
and I had just hoped
you'd say just about anything.

Now here I'm in trouble y'all.

I've got dice and a bible, a 9mm
and crying swarming
eyes like
the river surrounding
a heart that
just wants you to say
anything.

Poem from the Lab Book Number 5

Teased

Like a fish

by a lure

Bit it

(it worked)

Bait and Switch

I was reeled in

As soon as I knew I was caught,
I was ready and willing
to visit that higher ground,

The hook was pulled out,

She kissed me, and threw me back.

A Poem About Autumn (Part 1)

The Sun burns hot in
the day only to realize
that the cold flourescent
Moon is
doin' it's job as
The World's Cooler

Canned Cranberry
and pre-packaged pork
people also pre-packaged in
gortex and leather.

Hey look! I can see my breath!
I can see my fingers
redden and feel my nose
doin' it too.

Your lungs'll hurt when
you try an' run, that's a
bullet you feel,
shot down by Fightin' Fall,
makin' fodder
for unforgiving
Old Man Winter.

That Brown phlegm,
brown falling leaves,
from smoking too many
cigarettes.
There ain't enough nicotine
in the Carolinas
to bite back at
construction weather
clouds and wind.

That brown on my teeth,
brown falling leaves,
from all that coffee,
every morning, just to sweat
for a few minutes
and stop shivering.

Nasty rain
That never seems to stop
and then
I understand
why grunge-music
came outta Seattle.

A Poem About a Friend's Troubles

I can show the road and
the ways
all the way on down
to Elysium.

And the dark seas with
fright-white scared tips
nor their climbing spires
in stone
will deter the times
that come
when I'll still be the one
who showed you the road.

There are the bothy ballads
and the great epics
but the one I parted
with at the crossroads,
those roads even less taken,
are the
ragged patch
on my knee
and the gun
rusting on my
shoulder

I lose toes to frostbite
and insist,
still,
on walking there.
All the way on down to Elysium.

I'll step on that ship,
that'll catch that whale,
in that cold span that
reaches to that
cold cold Greenland.
And
I'll peg-leggedly
hobble back
on deck
and look for the
one I lost
at the crossroads,
and somewhere
in the back of my head,
I'll know,
that she's sewn into my clothes.

Poem from the Lab Book Number One

"Crossroads"
What a cliche
Where am I?
this dirt road is
rarely traveled
and the dogs behind
the barbed
wire
are by no means
friendly

These dark hollow
forests hide
memories maleficent
and fantasies
for a fool
I'm ancient, anxious,
and apprehensive.
the sinkhole
and birds of prey,
waiting,
in stone solid
quiet
statue
waiting
for my
fall (from grace?)
The skittering sounds,
then silence.

It's frightening.

Poem from the Lab Book Number Two

Dust
and
Dirt
are
Everywhere.
timeless
sordid molecules
of malevolent
silicon.
Throw in some
water
and we've got mud
on our
shoes.
The smears
on my glasses
and the
stains on the
couch
are infinite
and timeless.