Freshwater (adaptation of haiku by basho) footsteps along your windowsill footsteps along your stair and after the bells hummed and were silent flowers chimed a peal of fragrance outside your house water freely rushes hold out your hands to catch your breath and after the bells hummed and were silent flowers chimed a peal of fragrance Flowereyed pack your memories in a suitcase have no time for faint good-byes you board the train to cinematic celluloid a reel of lives wish your name into a starface on the famous boulevard at each audition standing patiently you wait, you've worked so hard... a dime a dance you remember at hollywood and vine in painted ruby slippers your name will be in lights met a man in finest linen he told you stories you believed took you to his fine establishment of guns, and whores and thieves but now those days have gone and faded nothing matters now, it seems in your airstream by the highway dead to life and dead to dreams a dime a dance you remember at hollywood and vine in painted ruby slippers your name will be in lights `cause you and barbara went there to be all right without a single melody without a single chance to see we'll be all right just you and her, like marilyn Overpass I haven't lived very long in this shelter surprised to have found I'm afraid of myself constructing these buildings on windows and doorways I see that my skyscraper's starting to melt dominos fall on cathedrals of pleasure I'm standing alone at the edge of the dock when all the others have started to run I can see that I'm only beginning to walk * I'm turning on a needle, resting on a pin the innocence there is fragile, delicate as sin * seen through the eyes of exorbitant anger I rule out no answers explaining the end when all the others have waltzed through the skyline I find I'm not willing, or able to bend when all my enemies stand at my window I pull back the drapes to take part in their hate only in time will I learn of the reasons for feeling unkind, though I may be too late * I'm turning on a needle, resting on a pin the innocence there is fragile, it's delicate as sin and I fall down chaise lounge its the words that you said, its the thoughts in your head its the way I feel its the hopes that we share, its the love of nowhere its the way I feel overpass. Some Poet crucified under a clock watching the hand as a past time the drink that I've chosen is wrong stretched towards the door and I'm broken the edge of the sofa is bare I've written my name on the table I think you may notice in time until then, I'll sit with my feet up * and my favorite curtains are gold and my favorite seasons are cold and my favorite stories are told not by me * The chair by the window is framed with velvet and flowers from eden the street is long and wide but the avenue's always the same and when I was young, I wanted to be sweeter so bored by the sound of the walls, and the drip off the ceiling dust settled on trinkets and baubles of once bright shiny things shelves in the hall are cluttered with all the meaningless things we deem holy the ash in the fire is powdered and cold, somehow I'm feeling so old. The brim of my glass is flavored with apples and cherries from maine my hands are long and tired, but my touch is gentle the same safe, locked in a cupboard above my bed, rows of little dolls who wait, patiently, for days when they may dance free once again so like the prophesy written for me by some poet better than I his words locked away in his little book resting on top of my chest as I lie Wake Up ever how I see you folded in a chair you've wrapped yourself in cellophane with tin foil in your hair * wake up, please wake up I don't know pain I need to know that I will never be like you * your age you wear beside you it's river round your head rushes to the skyline so sad that you're dead * how do I know if I can recover how do I know that I can feel how do I know that everything stops and everything seems to be so surreal how do I feel of God and the devil how do I feel about my life how can I move when everything stops should I close my eyes then, to hide Red Caboose caught there, in your stare stay where sleep makes me whole left by the lamplight a story by your side * do you believe we are not each other's hands do you believe I can stand * kept in a box there by the doorstep to your house just leave me at the entrance to it all when you fall * and I may wipe my brow with your heart and put it in my pocket best there, than on your sleeve for I may need it once again * secret hiding promise by the backyard to my house yet I haven't felt this good since I was just small * do you believe we are not each other's hands and do you believe Shine Away through scarlet skies breathes words of wise I see you there without a lie in and out and far beyond what I despise rising through the earth again reaching for a gold amen embrace the dream before the end closes in I see you through your tangled web of finest silk and golden thread and you define the space between and I decline lead me to where I can be the image that I dream to be left and right and back and forth I fall behind * shine away everything goes away I go on my own and I wait * carrying in chariots that gleam within your silent skies walk my horses treasuring what I can find listless hands hold thoughts at me that I deny would ever be swallow it though constantly it teases time Honey Trip slow winds follow your halo finally tomorrow, it's mine so like the grains of sand running through my fingers the days are getting shorter as I stand here * empty everything I am it's only everything I want to be and through everything I stand and through everything I asked before now I don't know who I really am * throw my tired body on the fire lead the barefoot children through my arms so in the end I fear we all remain the same in numbers left to be remembered through our charms here * like the rain, she washes me with the sun and sky and sea she enfolds me, haunts me, holds me reaching for what I can be