Ghosts and Onionskins

A Train Ride

Last night I took a train ride to spend the weekend with my family. The following was penned in shortly over an hour. A slice of my mind:

A night train ride makes me a special kind of sick
8 shades of green so whole
that I worry the woman sitting across from me
in the green turtleneck
is a spy
The cabin reminds me of my first art class
on sight lines-
these ones point nowhere
or rather somewhere we keep leaving
My teacher was my basketball coach
-small town-
and he made us wear green
like they’re all in on it
while oak brown me
the stump holding up the lot
sits sadly reminiscent
of the days that I had roots


The secret to life
I have discovered
is keeping sharp things away from your heart
and if things near you are about to explode
go away
The rest, I’m afraid, is nonsense


To have your cake and eat it too
is the inalienable right of the cake owner
but when have and eat are two separate things
you’re probably a weirdo


Some listless hours, I suppose
that I should wallpaper my coffin
and stick a lamp in there
so that- should I rise-
it might take weeks before I realize
I’m not in my living room


You cannot walk a path not tread
but borrow maps from memories dead


If I wasn’t this hollow
then I wouldn’t swallow
the medicine or magic pill
that might overnight
make this madness alright
and soothe me with chemical spill

But it’s new and I’m scared
and they never prepared
me for emptiness, rather they said
that each dream in mind
would be out there to find
jumping into the world from my head

So I took it as truth
and I bought with my youth
not but 10 thousand trips round the earth
and found not a soul
who had filled that same hole
nor a heart that felt dreams without worth


8 tall whiskeys
and you are looking fine
when I’m sure you’re not a coat rack
I’m gonna make you mine


I write this and keep it on the bedside table
so that when you’ve had your fill
and leave me as a lark
I can show you
I knew all along
(what you were)
but only wrote it secretly
hoping my fifteen minutes
might last twenty


If you propose
that less is more
I more or less
think less of you
or think of you no more


If god is in the details
then the devil’s in the dark
so I stacked some detailed kindling
and then smiling, lit a spark


Wine in the night
is a party done right
Wine in the day
means that night’s on its way
Wine in the morning
well, that’s just a warning
to sleep, wine detained
so the sheets don’t get stained


I wonder when a wealthy man
walks by with younger girl
if she might fuck an oyster
for the chance to get a pearl


She asked me why she couldn’t sleep
so I told her to stop killing ants
or burn her copy of Jack and the Beanstalk


She said evolution killed the magic
and yet here is humanity
holding a rabbit
we all lose our breath over
and call “a kiss”


"Sure, Everest is high" he said
“but my grandfather climbed the 8 flights of stairs, 15 times a day each shift he worked cleaning that office building, and nobody cares about him”
“No, they don’t” I admitted
“nor do they Hillary. They care only that a man saw the top of the world and lived.
So they in their comfy chairs can think
we could if we wanted to”

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