New Year

 New Year is same as the old one: fight the same battles; face the same challenges. The arbitrary demarcation of increments of time is so unnecessary; a random fancy of accidental sentience.

Good times are so fleeting. For this reason alone, I know I will never give in to despair. It would be such of a waste of potential. If resolutions mattered, that would be mine.




meet me on the mezzanine
with some peppermint gum and old magazines
i’ll bring the guns, you bring the green
and the money in unmarked bills

it’s now high noon, and I’m standing alone
i called you but nobody picked up the phone
so i assumed you were not coming home
or perhaps you were already killed

i’m sorry i wasn’t a better son
i didn’t care about anyone
i wanted to be revered for what i done
i wanted to be free

by the time you read this, i will be gone
i thought i could win, boy was i wrong
i thought i could atone
for the mistakes that i made
but i couldn’t turn away
no i couldn’t turn away

 i contemplated the mistakes I had made
from day one up to the present day
but they all seem to blur, they all seem to fade
into the shadows of the sun’s serenade
  
so i’ll quietly pretend this ain’t a vendetta
as i load up my U22 Beretta
but the truth to the letter
is i’ve been taught no better
i am the son that you made
 
i’m sorry i wasn’t a better son
i didn’t care about anyone
i wanted to be revered for what i done
i wanted to be free
 
by the time you read this, i will be gone
i thought i could win, boy was i wrong
i thought i could atone
for the mistakes that i made
but i couldn’t turn away
no i couldn’t turn away

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Mosquito Bites

 Mosquito bites last. the sting is brief. the itch is persistent but temporary. the scars last. sometimes longer than the memories. I have wonderful, blurry memories of a dark summer night, millions of stars, dancing in a kilt, not even realizing that I was being eaten alive.




out in the fields with no shoes on
flailing through the dark, we're perfectly gone

lights out, lights on, lights in the sky
watching you trade your vows made me cry

like crazy we danced all night long
in front of the barn to disco songs
the mosquitoes chewed my legs apart
the scars still pock me like abstract art

i wished i was the groom
i'd get my wish oh so soon

bites bites bites, i've got mosquito bites
sites sites sites, i've got you in my sites

out in the fields in a bright red kilt
dancing, spinning, going at full tilt

tricky moves, tricky grooves, i can almost fly
but i know when you leave it'll make me cry

like crazy we laughed 'til the break of dawn
wet in the grass on the farmhouse lawn
the mosquito bites driving me mad
but preoccupying me so i wasn't sad

i wished i was the bride
when i saw the love in her eyes

bites bites bites, i've got mosquito bites
sites sites sites, i've got you in my sites

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Ken Kesey is dead

Ken Kesey is dead and we taught him a lesson. we taught him good. there is no love. there is no hope. there is no room for thinking outside the box. the time of pioneering has come and gone. we are a settled beast, best left unstirred.

stirred, we will bite the hand that feeds.

stirred, we will rise up and revolt.

stirred, we will destroy the only things that keep us sustained. this is the nature of the beast. visionaries may resist; but in the end, they too succumb just as readily as the pleasantly ignorant.

the lesson never really gets learned, and we anguish over it. we do ourselves a disservice by not realizing that perhaps some lessons are best left forgotten, so that the hardship can be truly experienced anew.



oh, no one flew over
we all stayed on the ground
looking for cover
and keeping our heads down

the apoplectic vision
is somewhere in the dirt
and pushing and fighting
is this how we flirt?

Aw, Ken Kesey is dead
and so is MKULTRA
but we all love conspiracies
we dread it's so tawdry

it's so paltry
so sultry
it's so country
it's so haute couture

we all rode the magic bus
in our dreams
i had dreams about your lust
they were obscene

oh, no one flew over
'cause we all lay on the ground
totally high
from the chest on down

the beat generation
we beat them dead
the peaceful nation
it was all in their head

some converted
and some of them fled
the rest resigned to hiding
from the love they dread

oh, no one flew over
we all stayed on the stone
protectively killing over
land to call our own

the prodigal visit
from the you you knew before
hasn't existed
since you shot him to the floor

Ken Kesey is dead
and we taught him a lesson
no one better dare hope
to escape the prison's depression

repression, the risen
have driven the dirge
we're all taking it back up stream
back to the first urge

you better move aside
if you don't want a ride
it's not that we hate you
but we'll leave you behind

no one's gonna stand
in the way of this journey
but give us a hand
we're not in a hurry

i haven't felt this good
since twenty
I’ve got privilege
and I’ve got plenty

Ken Kesey is dead
but the urge remains
to relax instead
and let go of the reigns

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John Darnielle on a desert island

John Darnielle on a desert island, in a tropical storm, crouching on the sand, clutching his broken glasses, waxing poetic about the demons that are coming for you soon; this is the wonderful world of my imagination.

i wish sometimes that i personally knew all my heroes. so i could tell them what i think of them, and why.

the intensity with which i love you is so complete, it sometimes occludes itself. i forget it is even there, because it is all that is there. it is the universe, too big to see. but i never take it for granted. i will love you so hard. i will keep doing this, for you.



down the alleyway
there's a secret door
that leads to another world
where none of us are poor

a precipice
a giant dragoon
within the blackest night,
Lovecraftian sails unfurled

i hold my hand
close to my chest
and think of my childhood
yeah, it was worst and it was the best

but i would leave this place
i would board that boat
if only you would
if you would hold me afloat

but i am lost without you
out at sea
with a blurry photograph of your back
and a hand-cranked am radio playing Lionel Ritchie

down the alleyway
there's a way out of here
sometimes the lineup is long
sometimes it's clear

but i can bribe the bouncer
baby i've got the cure for your cancer
i want to keep you strong
i want to keep you near

oh please hold my hand
and tell me yes,
you'll sail the seven seas with me
and come to my mountain nest

i would leave this place
i would board that boat
if only you would accompany me
oh baby you're the best

but i am lost without you
out at sea
with a blurry photograph of your back
and a hand-cranked am radio playing Lionel Ritchie

i am lost without you
an out-of-focus lens,
taking blurry photographs
so we can pretend...

yeah, let's go back
to the desert island
let's go back...

but i am lost without you
out at sea
with a blurry photograph of your back
and a hand-cranked am radio playing Lionel Ritchie

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i left something for you

i left something for you, back there, all those years ago. without even really thinking about. call it an unintentional, anachronistic gift. i didn't know you, but i knew it was for you.

i cut it out of myself. it did not hurt, and i do not miss it; i know that it belongs with you. if you find it where i left it all those years ago, i hope you recognize it for what it is; i hope you want it, even need it. i imagine you cherishing it. that makes me feel good.

i left something for you, and it is eternal. it will not wither and die. you cannot destroy it. it will never cease to exist, even when i cease to exist. that is the beauty of it; that is the beauty of you.



when we were still
still on the move
young kids in love
with nothing to lose

in the woods
you said you would
behind his back
behind your father's farm

sitting still
it still stings
below the canopy
waiting in the wings

that's when you spilled
your guts to me
no use crying
over precious things

let's go out west
off the edge of the earth
where the cowboys roam
always searching

let's go somewhere underground
below the [ ] where we will never be found
let's get lost off the beaten path
and enjoy our youth; listen to your laugh

i need to grieve
to know the truth
i want to leave
something behind for you

when we were still
still on the move
young kids in love
with nothing to lose

in the woods
you said you would
behind his back
behind your father's farm

sitting still
it still stings
below the canopy
waiting in the wings

that's when you spilled
your guts to me
no use crying
over precious things

i need to grieve
to know the truth
i want to leave
something behind for you

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gods in the city

gods in the city; there are none. i can promise you that. there is no belief. i purged it. this city was an empty shell, and i filled it with logic and rational thought. relief. you may think that there is something you believe in, but your belief does not make it exist. existence is a tangible, physical thing. existence is sentience and knowledge... and also pain and fear. but also joy and lust; physical pleasure. none of these things are gods. they are just you and me, and all the other living creatures in the universe. gods are something your ancestors made up.



there are no gods in the city
there are no gods in the farms
it wasn’t destiny or synchronicity
when you wound up in my arms

there are no gods in the city
when the lights go out
i can still feel you sitting next to me
when you’re slipping out

a lot of time i spent in self pity
three decades in this quiet town
with the asphalt black and dirty
and the river where god was drowned

ten years ago under these streets
the steel girders wouldn’t support the weight of our lust
there are no gods in the rivers at our feet
and the city will eventually turn to dust

people will say it wasn’t always this way
there was a time when the towers weren’t so tall
people will complain that everything’s changing
people will complain about nothing at all

there are no gods in the city
there are no gods in the farms
it wasn’t destiny or synchronicity
when you wound up in my arms

there are no gods in the city
when the lights finally fade
i can still feel you sitting next to me
when you’re slipping
when you’re slipping away...

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choke

choke off the supply. my air supply is dwindling. i'm starting to fade away; i don't feel real anymore. i tried holding my breath until i died. but i couldn't do it. i passed out and started breathing again. the body just refuses to give up. it seems so funny... oxygen kills me a little more every day, rusting me from the inside out, yet my body won't let me stop taking it in. if ever there was a proof of god (which there isn't), this sick joke would be it.

i don't want to die. ever. i am so scared of that CEASING-TO-BE. i will simply blink out of existence. and it will come suddenly. i won't have the time for all the important moments; telling everyone i love or hate them. or both. i obsessively document it here, there, everywhere... because one day it will be all that is left of me. and eventually the bits and bytes will degrade to dust, and i will be nothing. i will not be.

i will waste no more time on regrets and unrequited emotions. this is me moving on.



oh how i choke
oh how i choke
i choke on my words

i get choked up, my heart it pounds
a sorry state about the art of sounds
but puffed on pride in your own hometown
you lost everything that you found

it’s not that the opposite wasn’t true
it’s not that i didn’t believe in you
it's what you made of yourself, but worse
it’s what you made of me and my trust, first

the place where we used to meet
the lakebed’s all dried up at my feet
and a god’s not gonna bring back the day
before you got up and walked away
now take it away

nah, nah,
you’re not even making sense,
you’re just spinning your wheels
the sounds aren’t even offensive;
they ain’t even real

you just keep spewing garbage,
hate and lies
the saddest part
is how little i’m surprised

as you paint yourself
the victim here
no one’s believing
your crocodile tears

go on, keep trying
get enthused
keep spewing your lies,
it’s keeping me amused...

it’s a shame when I was hurtin’ the most
that you were too busy flirtin’ with ghosts
you were haunting the past, and fading fast
and dreaming of heading out to the coast

and it’s a joke that the pieces don’t even fit
i eat the fruits of my labour, but choke on the pit
remember all the way back to the start?
when we used to share a heart...

now i’m left with a lump in my throat
it’s hard to breathe when i read what you wrote
i held you back, you said in your note
"you held me back"; yes you can quote me, that’s a fucking quote.

oh how i choke
oh how i choke
i choke on my words

it’s a contest 'tween you and i
c’mon look me in the eye
if this moment were to pass you by
you’d regret it before you die

i’m not the one who’s holding you back
but maybe that’s why you’re on the attack
don’t think i’ll take the blame
but i loved you all the same
goodbye...

i choke on my words
goodbye

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