deadening vibrato…lesions on the skin…a crab cake in the pocket…tasting the best of yet…the better yet…still…containing a little less than multitudes…falling all the way down to the bottom all at once…crests of carefully carved out ways…dents in the hood…cats mewling for their food…a distaste for the merely polite…a steak and potatoes kind of guy…letting the good times roll…championing the dead…kissing off the more than faltering stagger of double-crossing steps…fond of saying farewell in the rain caught dead broke without an umbrella to hold on to…clutter that has a life of its own…regurgitating the same old lines in the same old places…dust growing wings…months are just names on calendar pages…the lowing moo of fog horns bellowing your name from some deep dark place in the universe…exerting myself to exist in my own place in the landscape of my dreams…trust the luck of a pack of cards to change the wind’s fortune…grown too long in the face for too long…depreciated and downcast and down on my luck and inclined to dipsomania…pandering to the basest of the ways to be calling out for another shot at being…a falsetto and a lion’s roar and the magic of crosswalks…one times one times one times one…pots of water boiling…where have all of my friends ran off to…where is the pit of my stomach…a melting in my gut like ice cream left out too long…wanting to go outside instead I pour another drink…shadows like barbed wire attack my walls…keys in the door that leave me scratching along at nothing that’ll ever let me in…diligent in my dependence on the whims of things…wiping my eyes…weary of time…coughing up another dream…the brake fluid in my brain is getting low…colliding with avocadoes and fruit flies and asteroids…finished and still going strong…downing another double of nostalgia from the always full bottle of memories…putting the un in uncomfortable…slipping along the icy roads of no-two-ways-about-it-ville…cursing the sky for changing…pondering the pinhole shapes of home…cutting it up and cutting it down and cutting out…doling out doll hairs for spare change…jimmying the locks in the better half of my personality…there are no more carnivals and the clowns have all gone home and the bars of my cell ring like bells…just another of the worrying kind…another domino come crashing down from the 44th floor…another late payment on a debt I’ll never pay…crash landing into the exploded bird’s nest of your wildest ways…the phone lines are talking to themselves and the fire hydrants have all gone insane and the leaves on the sidewalk keep wandering away and the FBI is closing in and the moon has gone off waltzing with the rain…a harmonica is your only friend…gimmicks in my pocket trying to go cold turkey downtown in the freezing cold…nothing is going to change the way I make my way through it all…putting my foot down and then up and then all around…making a break for it through the broken window…taking up space…taking the pain away…taking my time…taking it all in…taking chances I’ve never got around to taking…staying inside…mustering up small implosions of courage that die before I get up the gumption to do something…Groucho Marx on the record player yapping away…getting back in the saddle again…chalking it all up to losing again…a point that I never made making itself all over again over the sound of the static of my radio…somewhere all I did was care someday long ago when I still could…an old woman yelling lordy lordy…still waiting for that song to catch me off guard…taking the cure for the way I want to feel…gargling tap water….finding things found somehow undone…gouging out the eyes is not enough…nobody calling but that’s okay….kiss the wind with a prayer even if nobody cares…there is a chance that miserable is just another way to put off feeling bad…there is always a chance that things are as alright as The Who said the kids were…spit on a cop and break a nuns back…getting caught up in a song…crepitating along for the ride…still asking myself the same question what are they marching for…still stepping into our arms…the wind makes my decisions for me…the rain spells out my future on the street…my moods are just the radio…my time doesn’t really just tick anymore…as long as I wake up in the morning…as long as my head doesn’t spin the way the world spins…feeling sorry over the way I make my way through the days the only way I’m able…crossed up in the hairs of normalcy and what I’m supposed to be…screaming at the wind…fighting against the ways I’ve not been quite able to be…stumped and out-done by the doings of those that seem to push and plash against me…coming up short still…not quite alone enough to be lonely…funny enough to start a picnic…six thousand ways to feel like you’re coming up short…as long as you’re not under ground yet…the pounding of footsteps…the smells of a million roses in a million mailboxes…waxing lost on the winning ways to lose…a subterranean yodeling…messes of life and messy cafeterias…descending like Orpheus would...the dirty dishes pile up…let me walk down the highway of life with my father in peace and not in pieces…there is no place for these things…let me put something away in forever…kill off the sky with rainbows…push away the pushers and kill off the killers…go golden with your arms…fall off the wagon with style…miss all the girls you’ve ever known…I’ve got those worried blues too and I am always cold and I am never where the climate suits my clothes…too much trouble in my mind…the cold whistle blows way too cold for me now…hell I’m just going to traipse off to where I’ve never been before…worried enough to be concerned…lastly I think I’ll keep falling down…my gloves are full of holes and she wholly does not remember me at all anymore…I am okay…falling for her all over again and still falling down and maybe even falling right up the stairs still and still holding her bad luck hand still all the way to the end of the night.
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