if a person is famous
they name a bridge after you or
a street

at least a rest stop
on the turnpike

greatness

however

is a different matter ...


melodious percussion

the guitar player
in dark sunglasses
wearing a fedora hat
the brim pulled down

the vocalist
with a voice
like rain


you find greatness
in the strangest of places

a pint of bourbon
a poem

or

at
a strip mall on rt. 9

it is a cold january night.

I walk into the bar.

it is "Beach Night", and
ed maloney has trucked in
3 hundred pounds
of sand...
2 drunks are
trying to build
sand castles.

the bartender 's girl friend
is howling to
"the werewolves of London."

the bartender bob has
a mouth full
of tequila
and a lit pack of matches,
he sprays the tequila
setting a pack of napkins
on fire.

crazy george is swinging
from the wagon wheel
light fixture.

ed Maloney yells
something
but jumps
grabbing
the other side of the
wagon wheel light
and the wagon wheel light fixture
and crazy George
and ed Maloney
come crashing down
into a pile.

it is the one bar
that
ed couldn't be
thrown out of.

he owned it.

ed had stolen
thousands of dollars
from the company he work
for.

(the rumor was the company
was the
CIA)

the company
couldn't figure out how
he did it
so they paid him
100 thousand dollars
to tell them
how he did it.

"how did you do it?"
I asked.

"ghosting the darkling"
is all he said.

he always said ghosting the darkling
whether it was the company,
the bar,

life.

That's what he
called it,

GHOSTING THE DARKLING...

                         *    **
The brush stroke of a genius is a work of fiction.
Names, characters, places, and incidents are
Absolutely True...

(that's my story,
anyway...)

some
float
up

slowly

the wind taking his hair
the wind blowing through him
skin and bone
the wind whistling through his teeth

some ride into the abyss

some are bounded
to cling to the earth,
rock and soil

some hang on to the edge

some ride the wild wind
into the Abyss

some see the river and fish

some rise up
when the lonely one asks for the them

does the abyss wait for you,
or did an angel come for you, brother

and if the earth is but a grain of sand
in the vastness of all the grains of sand
on all the beaches of an unfolding soul
drifting into the ripples of time,

I need to know, Lord?

the box

my brother on the dining room table.
ashes and memories.

the best fishing trip to the cabin
and we never went fishing,

a torrential down pour.

it rained for 3 days, the electricity

went out and we had charcoal, barbecued
on the porch.

a candle and a lantern.
there were batteries and a radio.

we smoked a joint,
drank beer and we talked
about the the stars
and the care and release of fish.

listened to music...


...an hour before sunrise
I took my fishing pole
and headed down to the river
where the ripples and rapids
mimic modern life

sunrise lit the sky on fire
and slowly off the river the mist rose

mingled into sky

and I spread my brother's ashes in the river
and every river flows to the sea.

(love you, Dean)

the pram gliding across the lake

water lilies in bloom

summer

darkness wraps around me
inside a sonnet
singing, echoeing across the lake
i hear it ,too
inside a moan, sweet and sad
from
eons ago
primordial      
communication
we are one.

an old man discovers a ghost in the closet

but in the mirror a young boy smiles.

I.

she lives in one of the crummy rooms
down the hall
in the building
where the rats run and tumble
through its terrible walls
like children at play

she has intimate conversations

with saints
and pigeons
and the daffodils in the park
and the rats in the walls
and late at night
with her dead daughter

her boots echo down the hall
she's going to clean the gutters of trash
and feed the cats
I watch from my window
the cats come running from the abandoned church
hundreds come running
the kids call her cat queen
i call her savior

II.


I still hear those boot steps
when the air turns cold
and lakes freeze
and her ghost tells me
people die the way they live
and through the looking glass
down the rabbit hole
we'll all go


III.


there in this concrete
in that crummy room
was the thief that hunts my dreams

but you were something gentle and kind
a brightness in the projects

a caring heart
a loving soul
in this city where there were few

and
when she left
hemingwey

ernest put the barrel
of a shotgun
in his mouth

big toe
in the trigger ...

line and color
at the tip
of his brush
van gogh
knew her intimately...

ravel
felt her with his heart
and composed
the piano concerto for
the left hand...

and his dead hands
and with his dead hands
still clutching a book of poems by Keats
shelly slept with her
on the sands of Italy...

the wolf and the elk
blood and bone

a savage
animal
she is
when taken
for granted

the night
jumps from
the wall

and...

she walks
8th avenue
in the rain
and snow

beauty always
has her price
(usually 20 and up
depending on
what you want)

150 elk

tall grass

cool mountain breeze

heart of sadness
follows the eyes
of madness
into the scream of night.

who dares to dream
in a starless night?

war and peace then war and love

and all nightmares are real
staring into

a starless night,

and all we have
are the flames
stolen from a screaming night,
and all we have are each other.

they drink flat beer at the racetrack
while standing in the rain
waiting for 30 to1 shots
to come in.

they meet at airport terminals
waiting for different flights
with stubborn hope
promising to meet again
next summer.

sanity like smuggled light
they leave the mad houses sane
and carry bibles in the ghetto
and run for president
to change things
for the better
for a change.

they are poor black children
in a toy store
on a white
very white
Christmas eve.

hungry wind, restless wanderers,

the wind blows them away.

during a quiet, warm twilight
with angels whispering
in our ears

we ran around the dogwood tree
and collected lightening bugs
in a glass jar
that lit up our dark night
our small world

that tiny flickering
mortal fire

living lamps
floating
flashing
in a glass jar

and with angels whispering in our ears
all we knew was love.

staring out the window,
I remember you as you were

a bird always in flight

a fist full of tomorrows
held in the palm of your hand

staring out the window at the pouring rain
the warmth of your hand
pinions of a dove's wing
your hand in mine

I will not see the shadow
under your smile


gathering all the light in the room
like a flower in the sun

I remember you as you were

fallow moon
lifeless moon
on the rise
over the ocean

we take off our clothes
to dance in moonlight pale

and i lay my shirt
and pants
and her blouse
and skirt
across the sand
and hold her hands
as she flows down
like water

her legs spreading,
an ace high
straight flush
fanned  across
life's gambling  table

and then
the ebb and flow
like the ocean

deep and faster
dancing
to the rhythm of the earth

primordial beasts
we are
organic and carbon
howling at the moon

fallow moon
heartless moon

there s a death that waits
in the pale moon light

high along a ledge
out of the shadows she comes

the mournful yipping
a longing howl for another
and deep in the forest
of cliffs and need
she is listening
too
shining eyes searching
waiting for the other
to return her plea

my lady of shadows
longs to lie beside her lover

i am here,
she is saying,
i am lonely
and i need your love

a dark cloud swallows the moon

somewhere above the cliff
above her
among the grasses and willow trees
an intoning prayer
a beseeching howl

"after 6 beers," says crazy george,
"she's not gonna be looking any better."

                      *       **

Oh, woman!
wounded spirit
of moonlight and broken glass

Oh, fiery night
Oh, heat
raging, dazzling light

the wild place
till the red morning light

till the red morning light

hold me tenderly
hold me with those gentle eyes

hold me in your arms
far from shadows
where the nightingale sings

till the red, morning,  light.

the far edge of your love
rushes into me
like small increments of sugar
stirred into my coffee cup

it is the edge of things
i most desire

golden and violet clouds
settling just above the sea at sunset

the dive into the deep
green sea
and then the slow rise to sun

the far edge of your love rushes to me
like smoldering embers
waiting to be the fire once more

it is the edge of you i most desire
like the end of a ridge looking down
into the clouds below

the far edge of your love
rushes into me
and it is the edge of your love i desire
the perfume of pale blue flowers
the elusive summer captured in your smile
and l'appel du vide

george collects baby doll heads

my guestion to george,

do you cut the baby doll heads
off the dolls?

the diver pulled
the body from the lake
his limp arms
kept falling off the stretcher
a tall black boy
about 7 or 8 years old
motionless and staring
through me and the others
through the green treetops
and the painted sky
through his mother’s tears

the ambulance slowly
drove away
and  we went back to our games
and joey and I made a house
out of a big
cardboard box
and everything I said
was so funny
to joey
and when joey said
anything
I laughed
and all we could do
was run and laugh
until joey’s mom
called him for dinner
and he left

the sky turned dark
darker than i had ever seen it
and i climbed into our
cardboard house
lit a candle
the rain hit the cardboard roof hard
the wind blew
and the candle flickered
out

summer was over



                        
                        
       ­               

                      
,

sunlight bends
as it passes through the water of the pond
and graceful and bright
are the blue and yellow flowers
that bloom above tree line
so beautiful
and i thought what a shame
no one is here to see the beauty
of the flower
but light bends as it passes through water
and sometimes something
can look one way
and can be something else

a stranger to seconds and hours and years
the simple flower,
Just Is.
(the musician's idea of love
perhaps)

and in the sky
shape shifting clouds,
teardrops making figure eights,
the hundreds of starlings
heading to crash into
the ground
pulling up at that last moment.

and a flower 
Just Is

so walk with me through splintered sunlight
on a sunday morning
my arm around you

attentive to the echoes of our hearts
and we'll be the starling
and the flower
for the briefest of moments

walk with me through splintered sunlight

I could see myself as I truly am.
what would I see???

there was a wishing well
on the boardwalk. a fountain

spewing yellow and blue water.
I reached into the pool

grabbing change.

crossed the street
and spread the wet
green change across the bar

and got a beer.

2 a.m.

just in time for the turtle races.

so I rushed across the street
to get money for beer
and to bet on the race.

she was kneeling
in front of the wishing well.

she told me her name was Destiny.

the green-dyed water
dripping from her clenched fingers.


DESPERATE LOVE was the turtle
we picked. a 40 to one shot.

Destiny and me
spread the wet change
across the bar,
placed our bet...


...right after the fight
the cops arrested Destiny. the green

dye. she never washed it off
her hands, her arms.

Desperate Love came in first.
I took the winnings and bailed
Destiny out of the county jail.

it was love at first sight.

...meanwhile,

we're back at the wishing well...

i asked her to dance.

"so,"  she smiles, "dance with me,

sometimes
I feel like
I'm almost gone

and i want you
to hold me,
she says,
hold me tighter

I want you to feel
my heart beating
and tell me
you'll never
let me go.

will you think of me?"
she asks, smiles,
always?"


rain is the night's
beating heart
icy heart,
wind and rain
and a memory
birds are winging west

tired and broken
the ribbon in her hair
footsteps echo
going down the hall

and i could tell by
her smile
she's not coming back

fumbling
shards of broken heart
fall through cupped fingers    

here comes the night.

in the east the moon is full.
one of those huge harvest moons
and I think I can almost see some craters
and I imagine like a
little boy
that hiding in the shadows of the moon
I can see a cream colored horse.

when I look down
there she stands chewing
bubble gum
about 16
with pensive brown eyes
and as they lift
she smiles.

no, i tell her, no thanks.

i follow the snow down main street
stop and turn.
a car has pulled up to her
the door swings open and
as she slides into the yellow cadillac
her skirt tugs tightly around her firm ***
and all the space between earth
and moon
is hers.
                                  
the door slams shut.
the cadillac heads east
                                  
she rides the horse of cream
 into shadows

and only the bubble gum is real.

tip toes to an imaginary line
drawn in the sand,
speaks in shadows,

tenderness, raw and sharp.

raised by wolves
she chews to the bone.

kiss the wind
my love is gone.

you know it needed something
but you don't realize it
until months later...

if it had
had a dog and a child

it would be perfect...

"I picked up Bella
our Maltese
and took little Johnny
by his tiny hand

as the ambulance drove off."

the sea gulls chanting,
the sun rising

shooting fields of fire
dancing across
the rise and fall of the sea.

she is standing by the shore.

the beautiful loser
floating lonely
like a storm cloud
ripped from the night sky.

she smiles the sorrow away
with a beauty so hidden and delicate,
distant eyes as grey as the sea at dawn.

she robs my head
sending my heart

floating
like a feather lifted
by a wayward wind.

she does her sky dance
on the sea shore
jumping
here and there
like sand fleas
across the beach
and wants for nothing more.

beautiful loser,

I see she is crazy.

and I want some of her madness.

her blessed madness.

the bird takes flight
into a starless night

into the long, lonely why
of endless sky.

trapped bird must fly
or surely she will die

the bow
touches
the strings
of the violin

one note,
one song.

I wrap my arms around you

hold me tighter
I say
hold me till the flowers bloom
and the leaves appear on the trees

hold me
when the wind rustles the leaves
and the turtles sun themselves
on branches in the brook

hold me closer during a distant thunder
walk me through flowers and forest
take the hat from my head
and run your fingers through my hair

i belong among the wildflowers
and when the rain comes down like tears
hold me close to your heart
far from fields of blood and distant wars

dark cave spiraling up
into jagged spires of silent distances falling
into splintered sunlight

the winds of the river Styx flows  
on a distant shoal and waits
beneath the waxing moon

for the wounded lovers to bloom
into white and blue wild flowers

and into the loving arms
and silken threads of time lost.

nothing is any good
you know
unless you
share it
so Tom has brought back the bar:

the Elvis impersonator
who almost
played las vegas,
the hair dresser
come future race
car driver,
a sufi
and a seer.

the seer
tells me she hit a cat
the cat was still alive
so she ran it over
again and again,
"and that's when god
talked to me."

"was that before or after
you ran over the cat
the second time?"
i asked.

"She talks to me every day,"
the angry divorced seer
tells me.

is god talking, now?

now, elvis
joins in,
"what if camus and nietche
met. what would they think
about the cat?"

"nah, who cares,"
the race car driver-
hair dresser,
says, snorts another line,
"what if they
started
a rock
and roll
band."

the Sufi wonders,
"who would play
what?"

"nietche on drums!" tom interjects
with a smile.

"yes,
and camus,
a gibson semi hollow."

"vocals???"

"god!" exclaims the seer.

"right on," i say, everyone smiles
and the seer is looking better and better
after every beer.

sometimes the dead
travel the road
to nowhere
with a smile


and i've got to get
up at 7a.m.
i'm a college
educated
toy store clerk

it's closing time at the circus

kenny composed songs
and sonnets to an angel
that lives down his street

a woman he has never spoken to

3:13 p.m.

skinny as a reed
4 foot eleven
kenny laveg
did some acid
that turned him invisable
being invisable
he had no need for clothes
kenny walked the 2 miles
to heightmuller's house

now,
heightmuller
had a growing disorder
6' 5 in the 8th grade
250 pounds

kenny was not impressed

so,
laveg
who is now invisable
strolls up cold stone steps
crashes through
the glass front door
where heightmuller
lives

kenny is chasing heightmuller
around and around
the kitchen
and heightmuller
jumps on top of
the refrigerator
screaming for his mom
and kenny rips
rips the door
off of
the refrigerator

and kenny laveg stares
at heightmuller
for a long
long moment
winks
and says,
"you don't **** with superman"...

...kenny stole
a 5 ton garbage truck
the day he got out of jail

you showed me how to think crazy
and be free

kenny laveg
sharp-edged and fearless
the patron saint
of us tortured souls and dreamers

7 men walk into Deep Pool
an outlaw motorcycle club
the man in the red leather jacket
stood with his back against the wall
and every once in a while
for reasons
unknown
he'd yell,
"just nobody touch, Toad."

i push past Toad
on my way to the men's room
and as i'm *******
i think about Ron

he trapped rats in corners
then let them go

slapped angels in the face
and ihe craziest things he'd say
like
"the smartest rats
always get out of the maze first,"

he'd give you a knowing nod
throw down a shot
and walk away

but like a miracle
he had you wondering

ron dreamed of the angels
who stand under vapor street lights
at 4 a.m.
or sit on barstools til closing

but love is never
what it ought to be
and he lived his life
like a circus high wire walker
wandering back and forth
day after day

and one day
he disappeared
like the rabbit in magicians hat

now,
Ron was a warrior
he drew to the inside straight
to sunlight fading

and outside the 7-11
where his x-wife worked
with a pair of her nylon stockings
he hung himself

the nights grow long
in summer
in sauk rapids
minnesota

an empty pocket book
put on a corner on main street  
she was standing across the street

watching
laughing
smirking

and this is how I met Sarah

a storm of unshed tears
in the stillness of her eyes
but that smile sweet
sweet smile
and you know
you re her only one

and after 4 weeks
in sauk rapids
we knew each others secrets

the midges danced
above the field of wheat
"just say that you love me," she says.
and she began unbuttoning her red flannel shirt
and after
we climbed the town water tower naked
and howled with the wolves

captured in that moment
of sunlight fading
she taught me
all I'd ever need to know...


...I see you sitting beneath the dog wood tree,
whispering leaves
falling all around you
and you are humming softly

the chiming of church bells is calling

we ll meet again at the end of time
my love
and walk across the sun

the doomed are the blessed
free of the worry of fate
or misfortune

the doomed dance
in bars
when no music is playing

the doomed are...
never lonely
and everyone is more beautiful
the eyes smile
the legs are long
(almost always a waitress)

the doomed
know what they want
*** and love and mystery
the pleasure of the morning after kiss     

they know dying
isn't any way to be living

humanity is doomed
I'm doomed
we're all doomed

aren't YOU?

blame it on the moon
shame on Eve

we are the catbird in the bushes buying time
a moment of sunlight fading in the grass

the night is still
the snowflakes spiral down
in a slow waltz

she dreams of me dead

yes
I going to make
a few changes
in my life

i'm going to
run
run
run
and

i'm going to steal
a white horse
thunder in her hooves
and lanterns for eyes
and a heart of sand
and gallop
past the glue sniffers and junkies
through 9 to 5 prison
through the steel and concrete maze
past the grass needs cutting
the garden fence
and rotting cherry tomatoes
past the paying of overdue bills
the chicken deep fried

O, that wild horse!

we will make that run
like 2 shadows chased by light
and into the drift of stars
we'll fly

Oh, that beautiful horse!

no more sad songs

some people feel free
sitting in a tree with shotgun
killing a deer
a marriage
or themselves
some people think they are free
staring into the black sun


my love looks at me with ghost eyes
and dreams a shallow grave

on a mountain crest
my body chopped

and mixed with grain

no headstone

she dreams of me dead
                                                        
"roll over, dear,"
i whisper,
"please, turn off the light."

28 dollars
got him one to life  

the revolution was at hand
he was going to be free

george lived
like an outlaw
in the land
where he was born

Be prepared to be shot down


George Lester Jackson
lived like an outlaw


George was going to be free

comes running through my window

sometimes,
i think i knew you
all my life

and holding the phone in my hand,
maybe, i'll call

or maybe i'll hear
your soft knock at my door
and your sweet
voice
singing along to a song

walt whitman whispers to me
from the nightstand
and i take your letter
from between
your 2 most loved poems
to unfold your words
and unfold the memories
and unfold your love;
while the cat you drew
on page 34
smiles at me

(and, i smile, too)

i knew you
before i loved you
your almond shaped eyes
and the contour of your lips
when you smile

i dreamed of you
before i loved you

and the sun comes running
through my window

and there's a black bird on a telephone wire cawing
and my cat's staring into the fire

where did we go wrong?

on a Friday night
no matter where you started out
you always ended up
for last call and

the unexpected was expected

you might find a line
on the women's room sink,
the bartender dancing on the bar
tequila in mouth
a lit match
then spitting flame

maybe
some guy pulls a knife
so the other guy shows a gun

satori's abound

beach day in January
300 pounds of sand
and a sand castle contest

crazy George swings
from the wooden wagon wheel
light fixture
and the lights flicker off and on

and the desperate and the dying
lost in want

appear and disappear
pop in and out of existence

dead
then alive
dead
then alive...

our cards are spread
and the joker card smiles

no search for meaning here,
the ****** return the dealt card's smile

we are the wolves and the lambs
no saints here

and no matter how you acted or what
you did or owned
who you hated or loved
no one was ever was bored

so alive for the fleeting moments
of Last Call

a random freedom of sorts
seen in a wink of an eye, heard in a sigh
the kind of freedom
you only experience
once in a lifetime

folie a' plusieurs.

sunset settles behind the trees
and the mayflies rise from the creek
to touch the water to deposit eggs.

the mayfly lives a day, a single night

and in twilight's glow
they rise and fall
in a delicate ballet
to caress the water,

this romance with flowing water,
so brief, so beautiful.

and here I stand
a stone
beside an unshaded lamp

4 walls and a door

I've tried to chase
your ghost
out that door
many times

and the unfathomable echo
of your footsteps lingers
forever fading down the hallway

the unshaded lamp
the mirror above the sink

a dangerous animal
the broken heart is
in the unforgiving light
of a windowless room.

a shadeless lamp
lit her face

" i'll teach you how to dream,"
she told me in her room

broken and beautiful
she was 32
red hair
she had freckles
on her *******
and lost eyes
desperate grey
eyes
like a coming storm
offered heartache held in the palm of her hand

her name i can't remember
it was a kind of whiskey
she loved whiskey

she said it again
"i'll teach you how to dream"

but i had surrendered
many times
many years ago
somewhere along
the road
to nowhere

and she passed out during the act
and the rabbit
was dancing in the ditch
and
so i finished

"don't you get it," i whispered
through her snoring

"we were faded
broken

a long
long

time ago"

walking out trailor
the saddest place on earth
is sante fe at sunrise

the edge keeps getting
harder to find
keep my ledge clean
brush away this uneasy
disparate ride

spin your thread
that delicate strand
wish me good luck

and i'm not a dancer
but if you ask,
fate or fortune?
smiling,
dancing madly backwards
I'll ride the razor ribbon wire
into the wall of shadows

and until the tug of destiny
and before the ringing of bells
keep me close to your heart.

the wind moves my feet.
my eyes shining like the sun and the sea.

"your love brings me to my knees."

her sigh is a whisper
soft like autumn leaves
silently falling to the cold ground.

the shadow of a smile.
my heart misplaced
like a paper lantern in the rain.

my broken sky,

her soft sigh
and I was no longer hers.

she had 2 horses
but she was the...long shot
pretty and flawed
edgy like storm clouds
drifting over the sun

that brief moment

of a faltering ray of light
fading in the grass

you belong among mountains
you belong among  the columbines
blue violet
pale blue
that bloom in the high meadows
above tree line

you are a memory
and a walking dream
so run away and find another lover

and on the snow white bed sheet

I write the words

that you longed to hear

another year passes by you

the sadness in your
eyes

like old newspapers
blowing down
a deserted street

the hunger in your voice
drifting between
a laugh and a scream

and your troubled heart
forever
chasing light
down a dead end street

we searched for meaning
in the shadows of dreams

What happen to the nights
when we only wondered
what tomorrow could bring?

I'm skipping stones across the lake
with my eyes closed
and now I can only see you
in a drunken dream.

I'm searching for the lost song
and the melody I knew
before your eyes had died.

the words I didn't say.
the strings of the lost cords
seated in sorrow, sometimes joy,
lost in tomorrow's rain,
found in a photo alblum.

the thinly stretched cords in 1/4 tones.
the rhythms from your heart beating.

the tender touch of vibrating strings.

once inside a woman s heart
tell no sweet lies

she loves the unlovable

so hold her closer

kiss her tenderly

thunder and lightning
a slow dance
and she dreams only of you

once inside a woman's heart

the touch sadness from her hand
heartaches wrapped in silence
only women bleed