1979
Three and five, respectfully, my sister and I-
We walked to the bodega almost every afternoon.
For my glazed mother, who wasn’t permitted to drive,
We submissively fetched her cigarettes and booze.
We walked to the bodega almost every afternoon,
While Ma lazed on the sofa peeping soaps.
We submissively fetched her cigarettes and booze,
And secretly stole a few tasty smokes.
While Ma lazed on the sofa peeping soaps,
Sister and I snuck behind the railroad shed,
And secretly stole a few tasty smokes,
Gettin' silly and spacey in our stupid heads.
Sister and I snuck behind the railroad shed,
Smoking Ma’s Slims under smoggy skies.
Gettin' silly and spacy in our stupid heads-
Three and five, respectfully, my sister and I.
Graveyard Waltz
With my love I waltzed,
We danced with flair.
To the spot where we’d douse-
The grave was prepared.
Smoke from the pyres,
Now darkened the air.
A shine in her eyes-
No fear smoldered there.
She hummed a song,
I sang along,
To our Graveyard Waltz.
We pledged our souls,
To extinguish like coals,
When our swaying halts.
With my love I waltzed,
And followed her stare,
To the spot where we’d douse-
I shadowed her there.
We strolled to demise,
We swallowed the air.
Saw the shine leave her eyes,
And with it her cares…
She chauffeured towards dawn,
I’m coming along,
To our Graveyard Waltz.
We’ll never grow old,
We’re the boldest of the bold,
Dancing our Graveyard Waltz.
Smoking Diamonds in the Attic
Cloaked in purple static,
Sitting in front of you,
Smoking diamonds in the attic.
My heartbeat was emphatic,
As death seeped through,
Cloaked in purple static.
Oh, how the mind is erratic-
How we tripped into the blues
Smoking diamonds in the attic.
Unlocking what seemed enigmatic-
Confronting our wounds,
Cloaked in purple static.
Strange frequencies that sounded tragic,
Can be tonally smoothed,
Smoking diamonds in the attic.
Let’s create our own magic,
Let’s rake our world anew,
Cloaked in purple static,
Smoking diamonds in the attic.
Black Jack
Prairie City,
moonlit boulevards:
we watched the gentry
swing from yardarms.
The old and the young-
Ruffians dragged from sleep.
Fathers and their sons,
danglin’ above Pottawatomie Creek!
As the executioners work,
slogging without a word,
I make peace w/genocide,
& stand like a statue in the herd…
I’ve mortgaged fear for faith;
I’ll march to yonder town!
I am with you, my fair Father!
I go to war with wise John Brown!
3 Tab Blues
wish I was a gull
to soar above…
and then just as quickly,
I feel dismayed.
Bah.
nothing will
change.
It never does.
Everything is wrong.
High Test
To husk the skull
I will huff some stuff.
Watch how octane culls,
My poetic dandruff.
I will huff some stuff,
bask in blond, buzzy peace.
My poetic dandruff-
A blanket of spiced fleece.
Bask in blond, buzzy peace,
translating tarty fumes.
A blanket of spiced fleece-
Oh, the bedding of my muse.
Translating tarty fumes,
imbibing sultry vapor.
Oh, the bedding of my muse,
that seductive navigator.
Imbibing sultry vapor,
swooning ripe and rosy;
that seductive navigator,
plotting petrol into posey.
Swooning ripe and rosy,
Watch how octane culls:
Plotting petrol into posey-
Mm, to husk the skull…
Charcoal Blues
I’m so beat.
I’m so hollow.
Never found me feet-
I’ll always wallow.
& I’m so stupid...
& so goddamn old.
Life ain’t worth the trouble,
striving for imaginary goals.
Yeah, I want nothing…
I want nothing anymore.
Not your hopes.
Not your notes.
Not even a roll
w/your sexy bones.
Yeah, I want nothing…
& nothing comes from charcoal.
Smoke is a treat-
this hypoxic elan
lulls me to sleep
& soon I am…
No longer sad…
no longer cold.
I took a lungful
of Binochotan charcoal.
Had one in the chamber,
but this is the way to go.
Nothing messy,
about charcoal.
You’ll thank me later,
over my unblemished corpse.
Yeah, I want nothing,
& nothing comes from charcoal.
13 Tab Blues
“It ain’t possible to get higher.”
Ah, but you can, see…
Just put a bag over your head and breathe-
Deep.
Most people mortgage their fears
on Lee Harvey, sports heroes, and patriotic lite beers.
But me…
I find reason,
drifting in and out of extinction.
& marvelous relief
when Death possesses
warm breath on my neck,
cold teeth on my shoulder.
Catacombs
We got lost
& drank bitter absinthe
Lighting long matches
In the city of caskets.
Our thoughts Became vapid
Our hands distracted
Making love-
A sudden rumble above
Diesel exhaust,
The match flickered out.
You asked me to come-
And then parted your jacket.
37 Tab Blues
What have I become?
Nobody I recognize.
I’m haunted constantly by a war drum-
That’s what I’ve become.
The days drag on, an endless plunge,
Even with you by my side.
I hear the wheezing of my lungs-
That’s what I’ve become.
All the things that I’ve done wrong,
The things to which you’re blind;
They drag me down when I try to run-
That’s what I’ve become.
I can’t believe I once was young,
That light is impossible to find.
A charcoal haze now chokes my sun-
That’s what I’ve become.
The Shit of Adim Witt 