I Ride the Bus, Bitches

Excuse me, did someone in here call the police because security was trying to trick a girl out?

--Overheard Announcement at the Greyhound Bus Station, Mobile, Alabama 2006

David Teska

On Monday, March 18th, 1996, I visit my friend David Teska in the intensive care unit in Pensacola, Florida. On Friday, March 22nd, his family removed life support and he died. He died as a result of a car accident. It was a single car accident. He hit a telephone pole.

Monday the 19th

On Monday, February 19th, 1996, I was almost killed in a car accident in Mobile, AL. The car hit a telephone phone approximately two feet from my door. It was a single car accident. I walked away with only a concussion. The next day was Mardi Gras. I spent that one in Mobile.

Dan Quayle

On Saturday, January 13th, 1996...I briefly met Dan Quayle.

A Still Wonder

I am a still wonder that runs deep,
a sky of demise in grey eyes
that shine of a sad London spring,
sitting quietly on the edge of the Thames,
legs hanging loose over chill frozen waters.

In red wine sleepy early morn slumber,
I wrestle with my sheets, a wintry solitude,
working to cover my bare feet while people
move about in their comings and goings to and fro.

The drawn window is my television to the world,
a simple channel to the outside
that I can comfortably watch while the hours
pass before me like countless friends I've lost.

My falling tears are tragic tears on the soul
that bleed every ounce of joy;
a woman scorned is a boy torn
about which emotion could really be up.

In the twinkling electro-glow of night,
I am alive - my waking life a dark
afterthought of what could have been if only
the phone had rung when I was weak and needing
and could have possible been discovered, rediscovered,
and recovered like a lost ship at sea,
finally finding out who it was that comprises me.

Early June 2006

Lillies Will Grow Again

Wherefore do we go now,
our homes but tattered heaps
of hope sowed so long ago,
our pockets full of flower seeds
tearing at the seems to grow
up from the refuse and turn
their tendered faced petals
to the dawning sun again.

9 June 06
Written to be paired with a necklace made for WRBH's Radio for the Blind and Print Handicapped yearly fundraising auction.

The Company I Keep

I am the all-American boy,
the all-American toy gone wrong
with a good song I can sing
while I bring to life
the music of my strife when sad,
never being bad, but being good
at it while on food of joy I dine
and drink wine and listen to the world
all curled up on the couch
like a slouch in a den
of sin that grows grey
as I obey the voice of a god
that to me is odd and white,
full of spite and would like to do me harm
in his charm of the sour and sweet,
the towers of treats that find me ill
at the windowsill in a day or three
wishing I wasn't me or anyone,
the long lost son of a bitch
with an itch that I can't cure
because I'm not pure of heart,
the art of dismay my secret talent
in a low rent place that isn't my home,
where I'm pardoned to roam free and alone
on a bench on the phone wondering which way is up
the cup half empty like my head in a dream,
things aren't what they seem when I wake
and I take for granted the promises said,
everything's dead in my hands,
the sands of time running through
all I've got to do to survive,
to strive to get by
so that I don't die a sad death
breathing my last breath and seeing the light,
feeling the fright of the end
all my friends fading and gone,
watching the dawn in the morn
the feeling of forlorn vanishing with sleep
with the company that I keep.

22 May 06 - Boulder, CO