Post SF Blues

It’s not you that aches

It’s the lack of filler

Jelly donuts sucked hollow

Emptied out piggybanks

Desire is a dirty word

So I wander Sunset instead,

Dragging on my heels

To rough up these shoes

my coffee seems broken

And im arguing with billboards,

Desperate and dull

Like IHOP upholstery

I’m only likeable

When not around,

Some slimy politician

Splattered across tv

Leaking faith

and losing hair

getting dizzy

with all this gravity

Reverse magnetism,

Personal polar vortexs

Collapsing time and space

To be nowhere all at once

It takes a madness to get better,

That, or some thing called exercise

I’m crazy because I’m crazy

Not because of you.

Summer after summer has ended,
balm after violence:
it does me no good
to be good to me now;
violence has changed me.

Daybreak. The low hills shine
ochre and fire, even the fields shine.
I know what I see; sun that could be
the August sun, returning
everything that was taken away –

You hear this voice? This is my mind’s voice;
you can’t touch my body now.
It has changed once, it has hardened,
don’t ask it to respond again.

A day like a day in summer.
Exceptionally still. The long shadows of the maples
nearly mauve on the gravel paths.
And in the evening, warmth. Night like a night in summer.

It does me no good; violence has changed me.
My body has grown cold like the stripped fields;
now there is only my mind, cautious and wary,
with the sense it is being tested.

Once more, the sun rises as it rose in summer;
bounty, balm after violence.
Balm after the leaves have changed, after the fields
have been harvested and turned.

Tell me this is the future,
I won’t believe you.
Tell me I’m living,
I won’t believe you.

-Gluck