walk into the room
With your pencil in your hand
You see somebody naked
And you say, who is that man?
You try so hard
But you dont understand
Just what youll say
When you get home

Because something is happening here
But you dont know what it is
Do you, mister jones?

You raise up your head
And you ask, is this where it is?
And somebody points to you and says
Its his
And you say, whats mine?
And somebody else says, where what is?
And you say, oh my god
Am I here all alone?

Because something is happening here
But you dont know what it is
Do you, mister jones?

You hand in your ticket
And you go watch the geek
Who immediately walks up to you
When he hears you speak
And says, how does it feel
To be such a freak?
And you say, impossible
As he hands you a bone

Because something is happening here
But you dont know what it is
Do you, mister jones?

You have many contacts
Among the lumberjacks
To get you facts
When someone attacks your imagination
But nobody has any respect
Anyway they already expect you
To just give a check
To tax-deductible charity organizations

Youve been with the professors
And theyve all liked your looks
With great lawyers you have
Discussed lepers and crooks
Youve been through all of
F. scott fitzgeralds books
Youre very well read
Its well known

Because something is happening here
But you dont know what it is
Do you, mister jones?

Well, the sword swallower, he comes up to you
And then he kneels
He crosses himself
And then he clicks his high heels
And without further notice
He asks you how it feels
And he says, here is your throat back
Thanks for the loan

Because something is happening here
But you dont know what it is
Do you, mister jones?

Now you see this one-eyed ******
Shouting the word now
And you say, for what reason?
And he says, how?
And you say, what does this mean?
And he screams back, youre a cow
Give me some milk
Or else go home

Because something is happening here
But you dont know what it is
Do you, mister jones?

Well, you walk into the room
Like a camel and then you frown
You put your eyes in your pocket
And your nose on the ground
There ought to be a law
Against you comin around
You should be made
To wear earphones

Because something is happening here
But you dont know what it is
Do you, mister jones?

Every time we say goodbye.
by
Jude Kyrie


The ash line lengthens
From my untouched cigarette.
Smoke rings billow
Like clouds passing eternity.

Its past the time of sleep
Only memories flow
Only of you
always you..
The bartender
freshens my drink.

The music weeps from
The sweetness of sound
That only the alto sax
Can bring..
A nelson riddle arrangement
Touches my soul as always.

When you're near,
there's such an air of spring about it,
I can hear a lark somewhere,
begin to sing about it,
There's no love song finer,
but how strange
the change from
major to minor,
Everytime we say goodbye.

It's Ellas trademark song
But we borrowed it.
It was ours honey.
Just for a while.

The whisky burns my throat
As the saxaphone wails.
The ashtray smokes
You are behind its mist.

The bar is quiet and peaceful
The drinks dull all pain.
Outside the rain is falling
The neon lights color
the pavement
in muted reflections.

I see us again
through the window.
Arm in arm
walking in the rain.
Then you float away
Like the smoke
in my ashtray.

The sax builds the last line
Ella almost whispers
*Everytime we say goodbye

it was a day in spring
and my vision was red–a
monochrome of the senses
i look at my knees and they
are scrapped

i look at my eyes and they are red
i look on my bed and i see red,
the bud of the bud is still there
but i do not remember the day

i cannot leave the house;
i’m safer in my thoughts.
i understand why there were
Woolfs and Fitzgeralds before me

i will crystallize those weeks in my
words; we were too happy in
photographs; i go back to the places
we smiled and cannot breathe:
i look at myself and i cannot breathe.