the lighthouse

if you sleep long enough, some dream, some day, will take a turn into the realm of nightmares. if you drift long enough, some wave, some gust of wind will send you shuddering over the reef. when will they wake up? when will they grab ahold of the wheel and pay heed the signal flaring through the darkness? why pray, when you can shout? WAKE UP, MAN THE BRIDGE AND STEER CLEAR THIS DEMISE! it seems there is only a moment left.

The ole pueblo

Tucson is a beautiful, strange town. The oddity of here must be somewhat attributable to my distant roots in this valley, and also maybe too to the strange orange nights that come from the mandated low spectrum lights used everywhere in the city. But I suspect that the strangeness also comes from way back, from long before I or the orange lights were here. My last night here, and everyone is off to sleep, so I am left to myself, and I take to the porch for one last look and breathe of the cool, winter desert air. My moms place is way out, past the end of the street lamps to the east of town, propped up on the side of the Rincon foothills, dotted with only the odd manufactured home here and there, plopped on the empty acres of scrub and cactus. As the night deepens, the stars and moon do too, as does the silence. No voices, motors or movement of any kind is left. And so I sit. Behind the silence, the symphony of the desert starts. The wind coming north out of the peaks whispers through the ocotillo and mesquite. With it, the longest off, far away coyotes yelp and skip...And then, even further out, the liquid coursing of interstate ten, just water beneath the surface of sound really. The most eerie sound out here, haunting, deliberate, ghostlike tones, the sound of a thousand foot cello bowing dissonant chords and intermittent haunting notes. It is the sound of the wind setting moving the cables attached to the steel radio transmitter towers, 6 or so of them, due south, somewhere near the highway. These dinosaurs, now defunct, not worth removing, stand in monument and play me the last song of the desert, my last vision of this town for a good while. It is the saddest lonely song, but somehow it brings me so much peace. The last great movement of this symphony Comes in with the train. Low, distant, uninterrupted thunder that seems to come from around my feet as much as it does from around my ears. The layers of haunting notes, coyotes and wind weave in and out of this last few moments, and then the air grows still and the night is pierced only by the light of the moon and stars above. Time to sleep.

taking a shit.

dark days chasing suns rays
from porch to the car
car to the sea
looking in on the smiles and eyes
of lost loves
and twittering children.

the soundtrack is the same
from hilltop
from valley bottom.
years became decades.
decadence left only time in its wake.
time left me here to listen to the neighborhood.

bent over the keys
looking to unlock any door
by the last light of day.

if only my hands weren't shaking blocks.
if only my vision could peirce the shadows left...

the portfolio.

tear dreams up by the roots
and pulverize
shred
grind them
to the pulp that fuels
the reality you have settled upon.

water this world well,
tend and clear,
get her growing
for we know
by now
that all things come and go
and one day
this life
will be the mulch
that we sift through
for the seeds of dreams.

disco fuck punk.

so you keep reaching
striving
driving
for these sinking spiders
just out the tips of fingers
just beyond the discernible scope
of the headlamps
drive faster
faster
reach further
further
go longer
longer
but somehow,
at the end
of the journey
the war
the whole shitstorm of it
it isn't what you thought
and neither are you.

some things can't be undone.
and that's ok.

NOTHING DULLS THE KNIFE LIKE SITTING IN THE DAMP AIR.

pictures of you.

as i look through
this pile of pictures
i can see the face of death.
on the old folks
the obviously decaying
in the yellowed old snaps
and the crisp 1970s magazines.
i can see the look
the shadow of it
in the ill ones
even the young
in every crowd
there is the one.
the face that looks like it will be there soon.
the picture looks like it will be in a memorial.
another scrapbook.
dampened with tears,
summing up
another
lost
one.

waking.

slumbering dragons belch decades of clouds
into the tumbling blue sea sky,
mirrors are the inevetable way of the world.
grand dreams could be nothing more
than a way out,
in,
around.
try as we might, there comes days when the reality sets in.
the moon is the sun.
this land is me.
i am this land.
the sea must try to drink me,
and i will always want to run. run. run.
i am, after all is said and done, a failed sprinter...

devilution.

adventures become scenery
scenery becomes vaccuum
vaccuum becomes sucky
sucky becomes licky
licky becomes sticky
sticky becomes freaky
freaky becomes scary
scary becomes adventure

dreamtime.

another town crumbles by, late in the day, under the haze of southern steam.
still tyres, still pavement, still the inexorable writhing of a million or more screaming for a fuck.
still meals and shots into oblivion in the hopes of evading the loneliness.
warm breezes abound in this oasis,
treachery and demons surround,
and the best of us rise to the occasion.
wars waged in dreamland,
sleeping soldiers still seek respite.
is it the days awake that are our rest,
our break into play and monotony?
it stands as such,
for this fade to black is short lived most nights,
serving only as a step through the stratosphere
and into the impeccable craft of lighting up the sky...

pray!

we watch
as you disappear
again and again
just when
it is time to bleed.

give us blood.
give us shit.
anything
to quench
want
want
want
want
want
want.

retirement.

the slow decay of sleep surrounds
and the wind tears at the exterior of the beast
one can only hope for a violent win
surprise ending
spectacular loss.

but in all likelyhood, there is just this.
content
comfortable
complacent
old fools.
diddling along the seashore,
grinning.

cops and robbers

somehow the fools never get hit with the dropping piano
though i see peoples skulls gleaming
i know we are all on the way
through here
to somewhere
else.

on the lawn

they were the strangest
soaring
buzzing
alien.

i knew they were not me
i knew they interested me more
than anything i had seen up to that point.

but there was the familiar things
they moved
had heads
strange eyes
legs, though those were on all backwards
and made of sticks
but
the life inside of them
i recognized

and even then i knew
that somehow
it was not the way
tearing off limbs
for spitting tobacco.

water and wine.

sometimes it's supposed to hurt worse than love.
sometimes you are supposed to get lost.
sometimes it makes no sense.
it beats you down.
breaks you.
burns.
ow.

these are the things we give thanks for, the things we live for, the things that show us not what is real about the world, but what is real about ourselves.

in some time, the hard part is over.

then...
the sun can come out,
and we remain,
to play.

the sea wolf sets sail.

I left this all long ago, hailing the sea her call to roam
Borne upon ebb and flow of hail and wind and sleet and snow
Horizon beckoning, onward onward to- what lies just beyond just to the other side
The way back is gone hid behind heavy sky
We run to be free of everything left behind
Chased cross the sea through the pitch black space and time

Pray land, cause here we have nothing left
All hands here the call, we head still further west
T’home at the end of the earth.


It couldn’t be much further now, sea wolf has been to long at ridin.
All hands are down below, cause they knows the current be t’ one deciding.
If now we live or die, hope only luck stays by our side, looking on, to carry us all the way
The wolf is alone, to run ‘till the break of day,
Carry us on, jus hold till we find the way
Tho we cant go much longer we’ll hold as long as it…

Takes us to make land
Son pray and she’ll hold fast
To find us there, at last,
T’ home at the end of the earth.

There’s a break in the clouds captain on the horizon
The crows nest is sounding the wind is a risen
There’s a tree in the water with leaves still breathin
We close to the end o the long journey home.

wednesaturday lyrics.

Wednesday time seems so quiet cool
Better still with nothing to do
Than soak up the day here with the crew
Low lying light falling into the blue
Let the afternoon drift down into black
Wednesday time is never coming back
Don’t mean it aint good time here to slack
We’re enjoying the ease of losing track

As last whisps light get tumbling down
Time for us kill kids to hit the town
Always best these nights with noone around
The room for the good kind to be found
So mid week weekend - derelicts freak bender
High peak deep end – doesn’t matter never better
Slow down speed up – somebody please fill my cup
Never needed all this clutter mucking me up.

So another round to take us home
No reason for her to sit there alone
Come on around and lets carry on
Sleep the last dark hours out on the lawn
welcome the daytime back to the world
always happy to see you after the whirl
here’s another day for us to be found
with our ears in the stars and our feet on the ground.

We’ll still see you here on weekends
Always love to feel you my friends
Even in the coliseum scene
Wild partys till the end we’re always keen
But we really live back in the middle time
The world that’s found between the grind
Dreams lit by stars and neon signs
Wednesday night is both yours and mine

silence.

i wonder if there is anyone out there.
this is so quiet.
i haven't heard a car or a yell...
did the mothership come early?

i wonder if i would keep writing,
even if i knew there was nobody left.
or would the vomit just
keep
on
flowing.

maybe i should go and steal the best car on the block!
this is great!
the rapture has to have been,
i haven't heard a sound in hours!

i wonder what car will seem best,
when everyone is gone.
what pants
hat
hairstyle
shoes.
i wonder what words will come
when the world is ablaze
the restaurants empty
the ships careening wildly
with no one at the helm.

i wonder if there is anybody out there
on this cold autumn night
or if it is just me
and the machine
and the words.

if it is, then...
FUCK YOU, BUDDY!

oh.

there goes a scooter.

at least i know
there is at least
one dipshit left here
besides me.

i have to write 500 words tonight

something happen so i can stop sitting at this machine. something happen so i can stop sitting at this machine. something happen so i can stop sitting at this machine. something happen so i can stop sitting at this machine. something happen so i can stop sitting at this machine. something happen so i can stop sitting at this machine. something happen so i can stop sitting at this machine. something happen so i can stop sitting at this machine. something happen so i can stop sitting at this machine. something happen so i can stop sitting at this machine. something happen so i can stop sitting at this machine. something happen so i can stop sitting at this machine. something happen so i can stop sitting at this machine. something happen so i can stop sitting at this machine. something happen so i can stop sitting at this machine. something happen so i can stop sitting at this machine. something happen so i can stop sitting at this machine. something happen so i can stop sitting at this machine. something happen so i can stop sitting at this machine. something happen so i can stop sitting at this machine. something happen so i can stop sitting at this machine. something happen so i can stop sitting at this machine. something happen so i can stop sitting at this machine. something happen so i can stop sitting at this machine. something happen so i can stop sitting at this machine. something happen so i can stop sitting at this machine. something happen so i can stop sitting at this machine. something happen so i can stop sitting at this machine. something happen so i can stop sitting at this machine. something happen so i can stop sitting at this machine. something happen so i can stop sitting at this machine. something happen so i can stop sitting at this machine. something happen so i can stop sitting at this machine. something happen so i can stop sitting at this machine. something happen so i can stop sitting at this machine. something happen so i can stop sitting at this machine. something happen so i can stop sitting at this machine. something happen so i can stop sitting at this machine. something happen so i can stop sitting at this machine. something happen so i can stop sitting at this machine. something happen so i can stop sitting at this machine. something happen so i can stop sitting at this machine. something happen so i can stop sitting at this machine. something happen so i can stop sitting at this machine. something happen so i can stop sitting at this machine. something happen so i can stop sitting at this machine. something happen so i can stop sitting at this machine. something happen so i can stop sitting at this machine. something happen so i can stop sitting at this machine.

that was so fucking easy, i thought it'd be bigger.

here lies the sea wolf.

'ere lies sea wolf
'ere dies sea wolf
proud charge o' the deep sea, sea wolf.
Plowed 'neath t' deep blue cold
Wolf’s teeth, wolf brow, wolf’s hands and toes.
Plowed 'neath t' deep blue cold
With all her hands both new and old.
Wot give for one more chance this deed,
Old man beg take me back,
To the drift before the dying yell
To the fall before the crack.
As Blue death tore through the hull
Buried island broke her boughs.
Tossing men like rag dolls sleeping
Like scraps left out for the crows.
Heard screaming through the thick'ning clouds
As they fell down to the sea,
Through wind and fog and sleet and ice
He came to bury thee.

Sea wolf to the deep.
Sea wolf to the deep.
Cold shuddered eyes freeze over
As they ready for the sleep.

Old mans arms pull thee down
t'where no light could pull you back.
Was just listnen' for the spotter's sound
When we fell upon the crack.
Thrown high and low and far and near
Just th’ faintest call wot gave us fear
Of the deep yea, of the deep.
All hands pulled down to th' sleep.
And our mothers never saw us home.
And our brothers set to sea alone.
And our mothers never saw us home.
And our brothers set to sea alone.

Lost Sea wolf to the deep.
Lone Sea wolf to the deep.
Cold shuddered eyes freeze over
As they ready for the sleep.

Cause the wall and the buried isles tore,
tore the wolf in two.
On the heart of a perfect storm alive
whose breathing steady drew,
The ship astray
From the light of day
To the pitch and the howl
And the groan and the growl
Of the timber spent
Luck was lent.
but the wolf was tore in two.
the wolf was tore in two.
Nimitz called
called in his greed
through the old man sea
to the wildest steed
to the eraser head
to the noblest deed.

Call! Sea wolf to the deep.
Yea! Sea wolf to the deep.
Cold shuddered eyes freeze over
As they ready for the sleep.

eyes clawed through
blackening stew,
burnt crisp with salt
and ice right through.
the digging gaze
hailed the haze
aside but never
solved the maze,
of crumbling mountains
blue and black.
the sunken isles.
the tumbling crack.
that tore the wolf in two.
tore the sea wolf in two.
one by one
hand and foot
the fires set’lled
burnt flesh and soot.
the floors turned up.
the sky fell down.
old man crept in
took back his crown.
his minions wind
and fog and sleet
bore down upon
th' remainder fleet
and pulled them far
and pulled them near.
as they barreled forth
they hail'd no fear
and reason gone
‘hind hatred fire
to find the wolf
their sole desire.

far fleet down to the deep.
far fleet down to the deep.
Cold shuddered eyes freeze over
As they ready for the sleep.

if th’ fleet did see
the down below
t’where her masts
and crew did go
they’d never push’d
through black and hell.
and one by one
by two they fell,
on buried pillars
sunken isles,
their hulls cracked through,
and heard for miles,
the screams of men
who burn’d and drown
as the old man took them
took them down.

All souls down to the deep.
with th'Sea wolf to the deep.
Cold shuddered eyes freeze over
As they ready for the sleep.

between mother land,
and father sea,
they know not more
‘tween you and me.
just final resting in the deep.
the crew o’ wolf done set the sleep;
right ‘long side
as they set’lled in
the whole o’ the fleet
resolved their sins.
in dreamy dance
the corpses huddle,
ten score and more
amongst the rubble.
if dead eyes spoke
which some swear do,
they answer’d call,
and questions too,
alas quarrel was
less than the storm.
but still forsaken
homes still warm,
and widowed wives,
and orphaned sons,
all for sake of
sins been done.

God's children to the deep.
with the Sea wolf to the deep
Cold shuddered eyes freeze over
As they ready for the sleep.

so on this night
to the howlin sound,
remember then
the men gone down,
and know then when
the reckoning come,
not by hand of man,
nor by his guns,
is judgment made
or salvation sold,
not powerful seat,
or boulions gold,
made crew and wolf
set reckoning.
upon last light
the king of kings!
yea mates and martyrs
one by one,
laid down for keeps
the journey done.

Sea wolf to the deep.
Sea wolf to the deep.
Cold shuddered eyes freeze over
As they ready for the sleep.
Sea wolf to the deep.
Sea wolf to the deep.
Sea wolf to the deep.
Sea wolf to the deep.