Not Pop Songs (cacaphony for Kate)

Can't keep my eyes open.

When I close them, all I see are mistakes.
(what happened to that FM station?)

ice moves
overhead
moored boats locked in its grip
their undersides tattooed
with the shapes of black rabbits.

in the cracks in the grain
where water once flowed up the
tree like mother to child, from the earth,
hundreds of cars screech by
beeping, honking, fist-shaking cacophony reigns
everyone so bothered, jealous, pious
and angry
crushed together with all the people they hate
including themselves.
Their aches, and rattles
clamoring down
some noisy wasteland.

I look up again, at the ice,
barely moving, we're all trapped here
a sea of black rabbits chasing each other
into bright shiny boxes.

I can't keep my eyes open.
(wish I could hear the radio)
these dials are frozen over.
(step out into the liquid sky)
when the moon is in the water.

Witchful Sisters

Now you take off your head...

The horses run along the tracks
alongside other animals
hidden in the dark
compressed in the hinterlands
wreathed in ashen garlands
and in the middle...
remnants of an old spark.

Devils, witchfinders, sinister
kisses, viciousness and antebellum chandeliers
sway whenever ghosts are about
stay the shadows in crisp winged
victors, sisters, stab you like an
invisible twin, strips
two steps into some
random oblivion
like an old
skin.

Two Views On The Street Where You Live Carravaggio / Electrilinaria

Harry's Early Summer Soliloquy

just a few hundred meters from the sea
what haunts the cliffs of eden
the footsteps that depress the grass are erased in seconds
by the sun and what could have been

a million people
and then a a million people more
and all their ancestors
awash on these shores
all the neophytes and acolytes
and jacobites
looking for redemption
and the light
but they're gone
like fading laughter
echoing in the darkest reaches
of love

but I
never saw
the edges to find out
if they were parallel
if they were gorgeous
or just a hollowed out shell
that the sea washes through
in the hands of
children wishing for mermaids
with flowing hair
and songs of doom
they let their locks down
in this seaside town

the birds fly by
where once lizards escaped from the drag of time
to grow wings, what other creatures were here
when eons tortured this mountain
once at the bottom of the ocean
where you cannot see
all the things your cells
were once supposed to be
faint creatures made out of nothingness
going to nothingness
being as nothing is
feigning importance
of existence
solitary clings to you like rust
gathers in the cracks of the clocks
stranded in back rooms tackled via gold
where you forget to dust

(unfinished)

Doctor Miscommunication

who would've thought
wrong
all the tests come back negative
all the tests come back
to haunt you
singing like angels
of death in your non-sleep
the broken lines
and the broken home
break up the ending
of the difficult song
whatever they say
you have to do
whatever missed communication
they hesitate,
we wait
locked in a room
somewhere
waving my hands
like a crazy person
in the air

they find your nick name
on his neck chain
correct change
when all the
gambling came
to an expensive end

some time to kill
some sleeping pills
valium, downers,
drugs for out of towners
roll out of one
bed into another
the dogs bark
the corked suburban still life
fruit on the table
bills paid when you feel able
would you even notice
if you were alone
when it became dark
was it any fun
when the harpies and
the witches
came and
stole your tongue?

No October Needed / (you always run to sleep)

his footprint
across unlit
pavillions
distilled
to where
the air
is no longer needed
like a diamond
or the light
in a spark
dancing across
hot wires,
moons reflecting
on the surface
of an owl's eye
in the blink
of the flapping wing
the drop of a new tear
cleanse the wounds
and pains yet
to appear.

Damn, Damn, Damn!!!

Ok, the short version of this story is that I have cut the tip of my right ring and middle finger off. I was cutting some tile with a razor knife and while going over the middle of the cut I shifted my weight-probably to get leverage on the cut. In the process of which I edged my right ever forward into the path of the cut. I realized in about 1 second I had seriously cut myself when the blood was running down my hand. I looked at the back side from about 2 feet away at waist height. It looked fine until I flipped it over. At that moment a tiny capillary surged and a tiny squirt of blood gushed out of the end of the ring finger, or at least what was still there.

Oops. Oh...man...this is really bad Steve. what did you do?

so here's what's now missing(persons) shown in superimposed red.



damn. $900 down. the. drain. no more keyboards for a while, or guitar. ack....

My finger tips are in some garbage can(no point in trying to re-attach them as there's not enough tissue. At the hospital, thankfully via my own pressue. the rest is blur. I will write more when I find out more.