Over time.

Was gonna say how the clouds looked angry,

or the sky made purple behind the rain,

but was too dark to get a picture, so I just believed in it

and watched as drops hit my eyes,

like drops hit the lake.

And I couldn't get a picture so

I figured I'd keep it to myself so

That you couldn't figure out how

it really looked,

in my eyes, at least.

Was gonna say how the streetlights go out

cada vez que yo los paso.

And though you wouldn't believe that it's my brainwaves,

you'd maybe believe that it happens.

But I don't try that anymore.

Lost the mystic's mind when those god damned drops

of acid rain fell into my eyes.

And made me realize a new picture of

the things hidden behind the clouds,

far up, past god, or whatever that thing built.

Out further than ex-Pluto where things freeze,

and makes you see a lot more clearly

how well everyone's off

and how sad everyone's off.

And so was gonna say that maybe you should be here

with me so that I can show you the purple acid rain

and when it blinds you, say sorry and watch what happens

when you change into me, slowly,

but surely,

but slowly.

Pasa lo que pasa

"but we carry the weight

wearily,

and so must rest

in the arms of love

at last,

must rest in the arms

of love."

-Allen Ginsberg, "Song"

Yo pasé un rato solo en una playa en California.

All by myself down there on the beach for a night

alone.

And what'd I find but lines in the sand,

etched in hard by the fall of the sun,

or the rise of some mysterious creature

hovering above the water like a new light

for the whole world to see.

And who would've known that I read what I needed to read,

Or saw what I needed to see,

and the words clung tight, like,

"Find another home."

Like, "Find someone again."

Like again,

again.

And I spent some time alone on a beach in California and saw that if I sat still long enough, among the rocks, people would start to think that I was one of them, and kids would jump on my feet, and parents would spit in my hair, and I'd be new, be a new rock just sitting on the beach, waiting for time to come and find me with the other salt-washed rocks, stretching out into the sickly dusk-reflective ocean, hearing the wind from the south and the water from Asia blow over my face, like they were supposed to, like was their paths.

And back to realizing, realizing that I was there with me

and just me

got me realizing that it was just me.

And no one to fall into except the ocean makes you think,

what happens when the ocean wants you for itself?

Who's there to pull you back and want you for them-self?

But there are enough buoys in the ocean,

enough lifeguard boats,

and during the day, enough lifeguards to pull me back.

So I'll bob around in the ocean all night,

as myself,

by myself,

until someone wants to pull me out.

Turns out

Turns out when the time zones changed, so did I.
And when I crossed the state,
the road fell away behind me.
And now think of all the people
stuck in their cars behind crumbling roads,
because no one wants to drive them.

And it turns out that its my fault,
and whatever and whatever and
whatever, but with enough deep breaths,
You can shrug it off your shoulders,
y'know,
Begin again.

And tracing footsteps back and forth each day,
And running familiar circles each day,
And thinking same thoughts each day.
But with enough deep breaths,
they'll all just fly,
fuckin' fly away.

And goddamn,
Turns out trees die if you give them enough time.
Turns out lights fall the same.
And it turns out that that's all that matters,
just to pull it together.

And I'm pulling it together,
And taking more deep breaths,
And probably living longer.
And I can forget about whatever I killed
behind me, and start wondering what I might kill
ahead of me.
Because the future's what matters, in the end.

Make Good Speed Alone

(scatterbrainedforthisone.disculpe)

.שלום
Did I tell you?
I'm finally leaving.
And all packed up and
All goodbyed and
Alright,
Alright.
(Probably happy, just hidin' it)
Because you have to be to be leaving a place like here.

But I spent too much time away already,
And from there, at night, you can see the world curve behind the pull of the moon over the waves. And the tide goes up and down like the puppet it is just pulled up and down up and down and you find that there's more beneath the water as it gets pulled up and down up and down.

And I'm leaving town like a business transaction.
There's always more to do,
More paperwork to fill,
More things to return
Before the deal is good.
(And what's gonna happen when it don't work out so good?)

Scratchin' those lotto tickets every night
Must stick that sound in your head like
"Crrch shshshshshshshshsh crrrshhhshshsh"
Blind luck, grasping at
Blind luck, grasping at
Nothin' much,
Not anymore.

But I make good speed alone,
And I figure that I'll make it in time,
And I figure I'll be alright ("We'll be alright.")

But I guess you have to promise me that
The whole trip I won't be alone.
And that on one of the stops, you'll be there
to say something to me so that I'll stop talking to myself
in languages no one else cares to
and no one else wants to.
Tell me you want to,
And the trip won't go by so slow.

But if it does,
and even if,
Then prometerme que you'll be here,
or there,
or where
you need to be.
Just be there.

And if I make good enough time,
I'll be back.
"And if I don't come back, I mean, if I get sidetracked, it's only 'cause I wanted to."
And I'll do what I can just to prove that to you.

Headin' out.

From a Plane

From a plane, over the mountains,
From a plane, the sun died.
From a plane, watched your lights turn on,
Like the flick of a switch changed anything, right?
From a plane the people were small
but as usual: the usual.
From a plane a bird hit the window like
squawk like
crash like
break glass hard like
hole like
pressure like
everyone sucked out like
through a straw.
From the ground they watched as hundreds of bodies fell to the ground and
From a plane, I watched as it went down.

Told me, "

Well, you know how it is now. And that things that happen are just happening, and pasa lo que pasa, and there's not much to do. But I know that eventually I'll see you, probably. I mean, you know how it is now. But I meant to say that, you know, you just have to wait. Remember, I said, 'Maybe we should talk about this another time...,' a better time. And I meant it. But I don't think it's come. And I think maybe too much has come in between then and now, and maybe the time even passed. But you were wrapped up in the things you were doing, and I wasn't much, but I was OK with it and things just turned out this way."

"But, you know, everything's shit, and I hope that things eventually work out for you. Because they should, right? Because they should. And, you know, everything is shit and there's nothing to do about it but get used to it because there's nothing else to do. What can you do but get used to it? But I think I might trace my path across the states and see what happens, you know? (I never thought I talked like this until I started thinking about what I was saying, you know what I mean?) And I hope if I trace some sort of shitty figurative path I'll find my way to somewhere else, you know. Somewhere worth coming back to. And I thought it was you, here, and then when I was wrong I shut down. But you should know how long you were the path back, the porch light, the last house- y'know.. where I needed to be."

"But everything will happen right, right? Because that's what happens. It always works out how it's supposed to, even if it doesn't feel right, because how else could it work out but the way that was set out in the ground. Like that path, there's a path there, and it may be further from me, but it's taking you somewhere better, right?"

"And I know you think you meant it, or maybe you meant it, and hopefully you really did, and hopefully- but afterwards it will come down to how everything since this point has gone to shit, even if everything was shit before, it's a downhill slide from every point. The ones worth remembering, at least, you know?"

"And from now on it's probably just best to not remember the remembering points, right? I mean, if all you're going to do with your life is remember then you're going to live a lot of blank years alone."

"And I never figured I'd live much else than that. But something will come along, like you said. A new path, y'know. It'll be shit like all the other paths except that one, but that one probably passed or got covered up by brush and the forest service won't cut it back anymore because I'm not supposed to go back down it anymore, but if I get used to it, then that's what I can look forward to, and low enough, low enough it'll be like everything is better than it is. From that low you can see the stars, and I guess that's why poverty makes people appreciate life, because from that low you can enjoy what's around you. Because you have to. So here I go, having to have to like I'll enjoy it while I have to, and I will because you tell me to, because that's what matters, right? That at least I'm listening? That I always am and always was and I hope you remember that when I come back down another path, maybe you can find a way to reach mine from yours because maybe a new me will be better for an old you and then your new you will find new me the same as old you finds old me. Grow apart, y'know. But that's OK, because here I go. But it won't be for long. But it'll be for long enough, y'know?"

Fly

And things explode
way up there
way up there.
It's too bad you don't
live on after you die.
-you were worth it.

But you can push through the clouds
And find peace in something you find
way up there
way up there.

Shoppin' for

Went shopping but
Forgot to buy food and now
I'm just livin' off what
Air decides to float on
In to my throat.

I'll take it as it is while
I watch the rest of what I've got
Burn down behind me like
Lot's wife:
Getting curious.

I'll be a pillar of salt while
You just stand and look as if
I were some piece of mangled art
Sitting in an empty museum.

And that's what I'll do
For the rest of my life, is
Watch while I let you take from me
Everything I'd been trying to-
Trying to-
Fuckin' trying to do.

And sit back helpless as
Everything around me falls like
More unstable pillars of salt that
You couldn't even build with
Your own hands.

Just blame it on me.

'Cause I'll sit there and take it like
A pillar of salt would, like
I always would, even if
I weren't stuck here for good.

More

Thought I'd maybe try and drift off;
But then again.
Alone gets tiring.
Going on two years
for the rest of my life.
"So wait up, I'm not sleeping alone again tonight. There's so much to dream about. There must be more to my life."

Time passes a lot more now that no one's there.
And all the different lights in the sky just
aren't as bright.
But enough.

Two years going on forever sure does drag
by like it would-
but not expected-
but not surprised.

One day I'll drift again.
Can't fuckin' get to me there.
Driftin' too.

To:

To: you,
Because it's the only way I know how.

To: the boy without a return address and the girl the same,
It's better this way, I guess.

To: the lights burnt out,
Should've quit earlier, apologies.

To: them, again,
But if it doesn't happen the way it should

To: them, again,
Things could get thrown in front of your feet,
make you trip

To: them, again,
Won't be there to pick you up again, I guess.

To: whomever,

Getting Dimmer

We're all just pairs of headlights on the highway
Waiting to see more.
They said the battery couldn't die
while the car was running,
but we proved 'em wrong.
And we hit something hard with our pair of headlights,
running across the road.
And we shed a tear while we pulled the carcass
off to the side.
And maybe if they made them just a little brighter,

But they don't.
And we keep relying on the light of the passing cars
to tell us if anything is up ahead
because our lights are too dim,
getting dimmer.

Can't fucking trust that the road is still in tact
right up around that corner;
could be our last.

But we'll fucking try it,
whether it's there or not.
Whether we can see or not.
Whether they see us coming or not.
It won't fucking matter once we just
turn the fucking wheel.

Loose Ends

Pack
Packin' up.
Leave.
Movin' on.
Tape tape,
Tapin' up loose lids,
Closin' up more boxes,
Storin' you there for later.
Hope.
Hopin' maybe I'll come back,
Maybe,
When things are a little less-
A little less like this.
Aunque, es posible que
yo no vaya a volver.
Not like this.
Cambiar.
Gonna change and change,
Make change with strangers.
But soon I'll hope,
and hope and hope,
That I'll come back,
But not like this.

Danc'n'

Trees dancing in the
cold quiet wind in the
little wet drops past the
dark windows
tip tap roots tap beats tap-
one-two-three-one-stop
through wind
all night.

Dyin' Tongues

People used to talk talk talk,
Like that.
"Ni ne paroladi."
Nothin' more sad than a dead language.

"Notres Langues Nous Trompent"
Don't mean what we goddam say.
But they used to talk like we used to
talk.
¡Dime la verdad jodido!

But we don't talk like that no more
(NO MORE!)
And there's a reason
(HAY! HAY!)

Let's overstep our bounds,
Find a way to say something new.
Yo quería decirte..
Meant to say a lot more than

But even as we speak,
We deceive.
Languages died because they gave up.
Couldn't keep it up.
Wouldn't keep it up.

Ellos se dieron cuenta de que sus lenguas no podían mentir más.
Que ellos no podían comprender sus propias palabras.
That they didn't have enough time to cover it up.

And they gave up.

Hasta

I hope the look I gave you ruined your day.
Never close your fucking eyes.
We'll hunt you down
And pull out every fucking hair
one by one
Hasta te des cuenta de lo que tú has hecho.