Wreath

Joan

And as I take my first step
Launch myself across the parapet
Take sword in hand and fill my bones
With a cry that turns my hand to stone
Where now I go to meet her
And though I long to lay her low
A part of me whispers...no.

Later I awake from the dark
She is pleading like a supplicant
Begging me to give my sins
And thanks me for my diligence
So that I may now find piece
As I cross beyond this veil
I have never known such love in life
But I now know it, here in hell.

Owl Head

The Lump In My Throat

Small and round
About the size of a lozenge
Shaped well to fill

A ball of muscle
Surprisingly firms
Tampers down

Your scent triggers
And when you make eyes
I am stopped

By you, and your mouth
And your lips
And your smile.

All You Rounders Take A Whiff On Me

Conversations Had Between Songs

(At A Wilco Concert, 2004)

And I say
"Where from?"
And I hear you say
"Heaven"
And I say
"Sounds nice. What like?"
and a cymbal crashes
I think you say over (the general noise of the crowd)
"It's okay."
And I reply
"That cool"
And you look at me
Or maybe past me
and the bassists tunes a string
And I go
"Want you drink?"
But Jeff Tweedy starts counting off


And plays I Am Trying to Break You Heart

Smoked Meats and Fishes

Piecegoods For a Man Named Epstein 

I Make
Coats, Hats, Scarves
Aprons, Dresses, Garments
Slacks, Frocks, Socks
Undergarments and Petticoat
For all seasons
and all sizes

I use
The Finest Woolite
The Smoothest Silks
The Thinnest Lace
The Thickest Codoroys
The Most Breathable Cotton
And my stitching is just Divine

Come see my Wares
At my New Store
On the Garment District
Behind the delicatessen