Scarecrow standing on the rail
thin dress flapping in wind
eyes only for blue below
veins popping arms hold tight.
Stopped traffic shouting - do it now!
cheering ocean diving angel on
shouting - go on jump, you freak!
chanting courage in the angry air.
Poppy eyes round and terrified
dart over shoving throng
see the loss of some last thing there
she loosens grip on the cables.
Push by commuters standing close by
hopping over bumpers pulled close
almost get hit by a moped
as I sprint across four lanes.
Sharp hurt in knee shoved into van
little pain flaming up in my chest
got to get to the far sidewalk
and pull the lonely scarecrow back.
Broken soul sees me plunge across
final fear fills empty otherwise eyes
lets go of the cables just then
and leans out into the wind.
Leaning way out over the rail
I see the pale dress whipping down
tiny white foam where she hits
and then nothing left to see.
Crowd's cheers die of a sudden
cars start up and take off
angry eyes peer out of LTDs
and no one comes over at all.
Don't know why I tried it
don't know if I could have helped
didn't seem to do anyone any good
I might just as well have cheered.
Watching Susan
Watching Susan heave her hips in pain,
feeling the tension cramp my racing heart -
I would rather be
pulling oak stumps
out of the hard earth
of my fresh cleared field
in the searing heat of day.
But how can I disguise myself
as a farmer
in an hour
when my ears hum with hopeful joy
and my bones creak in fear for my Susan?
So I stay and watch,
then turn away,
then watch,
and I whistle out of fright
at the power
that forces new life, full-formed,
out of the frail and pale-faced girl.
Riding the Bell Curve
When the alcohol kicks in and releases me from me,
How borderless am I.
With what endless arms my poor reach extends
To embrace earth and sky.
Fallen to childish grace, seeing kin in strangers,
I'm prey to every lie.
Given to unchecked praise, I certify as victor anyone
Who gives anything a try.
Compassion-soaked, for any grief recounted, false or true,
I am primed to cry.
With consequences blurred and senses dulled, for any cause,
I am anxious to die.
But when the toxin's sway fades and the piercing pain
Gathers behind one eye,
And sorely abused guts convulse and complain, and
Set me to heaving dry,
Then, huddled in the john, so pasty-faced and cold,
Small and alone am I.
Topanga Love Dream
Songbirds rhumba in the monoxide night,
coughing like nails on slate.
Pneumogirls with trick knees
stick to your all alone sliding sweat,
telling tenspeed lies and
bleeding apricot chandelier tears,
breaking your borrowed bones
on the culture rack.
The church key is melting now,
right through your trembling hand.
Your dry and empty throat
craves the bloodsoaked beaches.
Your bruise burnt tongue
cannot testify to anything that happened.
Settle back into your coma comfort and
dream your solitary love.
