The Abandoned Station






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Mumblings and/or Poetry, Late 2015

Like mentioned on the other poetry pages, it's James Dickey-inspired poetry. Not sure why all these ended up on yet another separate page. It seemed necessary to break up the uploads of dazzling, brilliant prose. (heh, heh)

NOTE: None of these are repeated in the not-exactly-new-anymore digital poetry book, Brief Tales of Compromised Solutions


Ten Minutes of Murder

Disappointing the mandibles of death

I had an idea but we fed it to the newborn baby and now it won't turn back to the right colours

I got all jammed up trying to slip past the long in the tooth and I can't feel my beard because all my fingers bend away from my chin like two positively charged ions


I forgot to make a difference

I wrote down what I was supposed to do on thirty nine post-it notes

And lost five of them in the momentary warm rain

Which was enough to leave the rest of the tiny sheets as total gibberish


I remembered the witness's name

Hilarious from the first letter onwards

She played piano in a way that showed she respected the history of her teenage rebellion


I'm not fucking around on the steps to the station

Where all the cranks are throwing their hollow miscounted weight around

I'm not getting up to the split down the middle podium

When all the shits you hope get indicted swiftly across the wrist holler and piss


I'm not getting set up to be put down on the curb

What's going to happen is nothing but one of those dirt slump pawnshop prophecies


It was all doctor doctor doctored three times

I put all the pins in all the right places

I didn't care a fig for the sweet empty spaces

I have the size in my hands

I felt the readymade decisions

Against the slab of stone never ending in the rubber room

With all the junctures and crosswinds blowing through the crowds

On sand and glass and ancient wings

The book of the month will always sing


This was a can-do sort of candor

The strong taste the weak and realize they like it

And it's a mixture of sweat and exhausted credit

Of endless bad luck and history's cruel jokes

Of broken crutches and houses carefully divided


Rising up because the quality of the lies reached a new low

And obligations look like trees you can't tell from the forest

The weak taste the strong and realize they have to like it



Against the Alternate Rules

against the alternate rules

under bicycle locks and sour key

resolute to the very middle

well i for one will not stand for all this back stabbing and front loading

there's charismatic rulings that go in very specific circles and I paid the good money for a proper ride

holding the kind of hands that would sweat through an ice age

you listened to me that one time in the poisoned rain

and for that I deserve a medal which I'll pawn for better memories


I always start with a real hit to the jaw

Especially when dealing with mirrors

I don't have to repeat myself in most cases

Which I win by throwing the ashes of the book in their eyes


it's never quiet in a kitchen

something is constantly dying all over again

whether it's chicken breast or how you feel about your family

everything eventually fits in the oven


the lamb of god will say anything to stay out of the slaughterhouse

but so will the lamb of brian and sharon kelner

who had such high hopes for their little one

when they proved in school they had the best chops


I got right through the night terrors and sweats and smells

knowing your dark body opposite

negotiating with sick fantasies and fever dreams

following through and that do list written in invisible ink

letting the animals loose to barter and trade in the side street alleys



Long Pain Dismissals

Long pain dismissals

Exploding harmlessly over the atlantic

You guess a couple times at the edge of the horizon

Look for signs in the smoke like animal guts


Memories of a too solid flesh time

Where the rungs of the ladder were made of god's will

Everything had a place

And whatever didn't could at least be burnt or buried


Apologies for the heat

We got sick of playing nice with the sun

And now he's pumping juice like a horny teenager

Ruining sheets and computer chairs with sweat and more


End of summer before electricity

Those were the days you really needed your fingers for

And they break them in two if they couldn't cut out your tongue

But the they never changed because that's one of the atomic numbers


If you admire the cheers you understand the silence

And it goes both ways until both ways is lead or steel

Opinions differ in the history books only for a century or two

Then all but one conks out from running the winless marathon


He doesn't bother counting twice

And she doesn't mind the misspelled words

Together you walk in a curb-blind stupor

Forgiving like it was going out of style


Not looking down from your half-assed balcony

All the good dreams are under lock and key and below the stairs anyway

Make it easy for the straight and honest streets below

Tell them you lost it all in far away fields and granaries


No stranger to the epic flowing night sweats

When and where temperature triumphs terror

Lost in the hazy dream past and real unrepentant morning

Making peace with your indifferent and grounded ceiling


How big is this goddamn ambulance

I can't even see the walls unless they're painted sky blue

At least it comes with pavement, electricity and sushi bars

And all the pills and drips you can convince them to give you


the signing bonus doesn't work in the dark

the pens are conspiring to dry up for you tomorrow

and the elevator are spilling blood and semen secrets

at the moment of your most caffeinated and rumpled shirt needing


close your eyes on your well deserved sailboat

think of all the rusting hulks scores of leagues below

looking up with empty jealous longing at a senseless surface

only the fish and debris getting in the way


you were still stuck in the drawer at the office

broken in three and stuffed awkwardly into three file folders

waiting for the right person to accidentally look in the wrong place for staples

trying to get your say speaking between the lines


up all the night for the siren's call

but instead getting busy signals and resurrected boys clubs

all narrowing the seven deadly forms of restitution

a fine reminder that we all shit when the sun's up


feeling out the crushed dead velvet chains

a really pointless indulgence as you get a good hold on your sentence

it's not my fault you took advantage of all those people with your pity

I would have used a gun and a pair of hand grenades


all those words frozen upon the rafters

just out of reach unless you break the gravity stage manager fingers

and the bribes of time and words and rare lowland scotch add only an inch

While every other night is opening night


I'm making these changes while you don't realize you're looking at me

Depending on all the atoms in the corners of the mouth to behave

Without all the cue cards that were left on the passenger seat

that told the music it was the painting all along


It's too early to be too late and there's no point in being on time

I was always waiting for the next bus on your almost street corner

You never had the means to put the relished signs up

Always relied on people whispering your name in their final breaths


I've got it good transit authority

That all the trains run on time when you own the only clocks

Hands upon hands like late and forbidden love

Everyone is left alone in the night on the last station's platform


Eating the hearts and poisoning the minds

Doesn't matter if most people don't use them anyway

Just don't touch the digestive system because that's what they'll notice

The unquiet love affair between the microwave and toilet



Rotten Boroughs

Rotten boroughs

Ghost towns

Ancient runes

Cattle calls

Someone had to lead them all and his name was smuggled into the hat

We were there climbing down the fence and got in the way of that

Quick sedition

Effortless treason

Preferably classified

Bureaucratic backstabbing

It's not my fault he couldn't forge the names just the way they needed

All it took was one downcast look at the shoes and the doubts were seeded

Former lovers

Broken hookups

Filthy sheets

Redacted romances

He came through the seats of his pants all backwards and lost in love

But things got sticky when the sun didn't rise and hard rain fell from above

D-level shit

Hardcore burns

Up with refusal

Subliminal tanking

She thought they hit the ground again but then she never really knew the sky

And when it's the clouds that cut you there's just no time to wonder why

Dangerous repository

Bring out the laws

Hands twice crossed

Mercy goes underground

Late night cigarette fails

Red velvet wounds

I filled the pantry with excuses from morning sun to midnight star

And just me and the maid know how close these moments really are


It's Just One of Those Nights

And the philosophers and pediatricians agree

It's just one of the those nights

Where the weather isn't good enough

You can't will the importance of the hours on such a tame and pleasant barometer

This is how you lose your already slippery footing

This is why the scars regrow over the weekend

The neighbour was always the family friendly guilty pleasure

Something you can feed the kids to on those cold early spring afternoons everyone forgets about until they happen

Because time is getting tired of all these passive expectations with no rewards from old friend space

And I would be there in my best clothes my hands frozen in true applause

It's just one of those nights

With all the letters to the editor shredded before the pale fire

And the excuses ringing particularly hollow so the vibrations make the buildings and particle question just what the point of it all

And the time and space it takes for them to decide to hell with it is the universe

Which is much less deep and profound when you're throwing up in a shallow puddle in the hip bone side of town

Creating your own galaxies from the pit of your unhappy stomach

Clinging to memories you swore were just happening moments ago

Why would they warp and yellow so quickly what kind of fool do the rules of general relativity take me for

It's just one of those nights

I furnished the basements

You held down the omens

I bent the numbers

You called the letters

I let the new terrible rain in

You forgot to meet the new problems

Itís just one of those nights










What if the assholes you knew in high school grew up to be cops, CEOs, and politicians?