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Well you said you would pick me up from the airport
as soon as someone could watch your daughter, you got a couple hours
So we sit and chat, you say whats past is just that
cursing “forevers” and “at lasts” as you thumb your way carelessly
half disengaged half in disbelief
a book of photographs from 1993, I don't even recognize me
The way you behave are you particle or wave
you're both the savior and the saved
both the belly and the grave
Hosanna, Hosanna! You seal up the sum.
no I'm just the same as anyone
just a dried up corn husk
blowing away from the halcyon days of Indiana
I am not the white tower to god
I'm just the confusion of tongues
A dispersion of one
I am not the atom bomb for which you earnestly sought with your prayers each night
for to evaporate you in its light
No, I'll just pass by like a bottle rocket on the 4th of July
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2. |
Automatic Reverse
03:24
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Olive green skeleton key stitched between her sweater and her tee shirt
17. salt water streams
She was three years older than me
You remind me of home
Somewhere like Tennessee
Somewhere that I'll never know
Somewhere that I'll never leave
every single word completely cauterized me as she cried "If you are the sailor than i am the sea and each tiny raindrop that created me did so as they sang joyfully
and no day that has dawned no night yet set to fall would dare to compare, divide or conquer this day."
You remind me of home
Somewhere like Tennessee
Somewhere that I'll never know
Somewhere that I'll never leave
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3. |
Madrigal
03:33
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You are the fall
The joy of the harvest
Perpetual orange bliss
Without the dread of the winter to come
You are a night
In the middle of summer
Bicycle tires humming along the ground
Without the sad beginnings of spring
All the months of mud when the falls
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4. |
Harvard Classics
03:28
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A parasol and smile, a seahorse in a pile
of hard back Harvard Classics stacked up in single file
The philosophies of men all those tired silhouettes
you are the fullness which they seek to apprehend
I got your photograph
but a soul cannot fit int o a 3x5 print
I got my bags packed
completely full of sackcloth and ash hoping to undo my past
how does the rich man die? just like the poor
how will my best friend die? just the same as someone you've never seen before
oh, never to come back, when you don't sing the blues you just sing the pitch blacks
and you never know what tomorrow will bring
and its so hard to say if times a tangible thing, or just a figure of speech some old print shop receipt
please don't leave me.
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5. |
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Sometimes you wish that your cigarette break would last forever and a day sometimes you wish tomorrow would never even come around anyway
could you steal me away like Elijah with God and horses and flame because all of they promises are just doubting Thomas'
they wanna touch, they gotta feel
But don't be let down if you travel from town to town and find they're the same as the one you've been trying to escape
And don't let it astonish you when you find out our lives are like the strings on our shoes or something so beat up you cant recognize it from it was new at all
So you say your afraid its like the last paragraph on the final page you've been staring at completely estranged from anything real for days
And then you just collapsed your middle finger thrust up like the shattered mast of a sunken ship I just never thought you would sink so fast
Don't be surprised if the wider you open your eyes the less that you see well I tried it once it all became a blur to me
Don't let it take you off guard if you try really hard and get nowhere
Don't be surprised if one morning you open your eyes and I'm here by you
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6. |
Diaspora
02:22
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7. |
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She turned away slowly so unknown and homely
"Nobody knows me at all"
like aluminum Christmas trees awkward and off beat
we're all broken and cheap
It's so hard to stay, it's so hard to leave
It's so hard to change, whats changing me?
if you were the autumn I'd be the pumpkin patch
if you were the psalmist I'd be the olive branch
if you were the mountain I'd be the avalanche
Wherever you go I will follow
It's always the night before or it's the morning after the point between punchline and laughter
more than the bridges in Pittsburgh the grace that I pray for to gracefully waste all the more
So welcome the snow, welcome the rain
It all falls alone, goes back where it came
If you were the boatman I'd be the wooden hoist
If you were the trumpet I'd be a joyful noise
If you were tomorrow I would be yesterday's choice
Wherever you go I will follow
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8. |
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On Armistice Day you wore a bullet proof vest
it was always the way I remembered you best
saying "Who do you need? What do you regret? What do you wish would happen that hasn't happened yet?"
Could you sing to me a song of your innocence
sing to me a song of experience
all of the joy and all of the pain and all of that junk that illuminates the cold avenues you kick down in the afternoon gray
Because all the bridges I crossed never burst into flames, from the waters edge with my hands outstretched I watch them as they decompose piece by piece and drift away, everyone that I have ever known I will not know one day
And we all find our own way home alone
It cuts me up like glittering guillotine
Reminds me of that sad snowy memory
You whispering that old new years melody saying "I love you, Infinity times infinity" No, I love you infinity times infinity plus one
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9. |
How Water Met Land
05:04
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Remember the autumn mid-nineties when you were only 13
shaved your head with a straight edge stole a pack of your mothers cigarettes
and said "I'm curious to know when I'm supposed to feel this famous release? As I got dressed I mostly just felt regret and disbelief. It meant nothing to me."
Grenadine and soliloquies the wee small hours aren't so small to me and like an old photograph first you fade at the corners until you don't know who you are anymore
You talked like a camera you talked just like a garbage man
you talked to me soft like you would never get the chance to talk to me again
tell me the story of how the water met land
the broken confetti cast out and gathered within the palm of my saviors hand
all creation groans impatient estranged lovers plea for your graces through a cracked telephone I want to come home so bad
but the houses you come from are as tall as the tops of the trees and the shutters just hand onto the windows like last summers leaves
reluctant to be caught up in the futures cold breeze that separates all things eventually
brown penny brown piano brown table brown corduroy vest
anymore its all pretty much the same to me but I still love you best
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10. |
Armistice Day
09:58
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somewhere at a truck stop it is raining
someones getting ripped off and they're blaming you
but its not my fault that your gas gets so expensive
I just collect the cash it costs for the pumps outside to dispense it
every vacant stare shared with a stranger through filthy automobile windshields in the winter is such a solemn education and embarrassing flirtation every soul sits there sad slumped and wasted and you dream of your home town obtuse and astounded only to find out you never found it
once in a past life you were teenaged, how you made love how you made friends how you made so many mistakes dressed in a tube top and dollar store flip flops laughing out loud with your lungs full of ditch pot the gates of hell shall in no wise prevail against us
the sun only shone for your sake alone and the days would flatter you bare like the boys you would take home and your chest would fall and rise like the uneven tide on some uncharted ocean final goodbyes never seem final at the time, you lend me yours I'll lend you mine.
Somewhere is the future I will see you the cigarette smoke tangled up to the sky through the neon tubes
and I'll confess I've been sick since you left aren't you sick of this death well I am and I don't know myself a bit but I know myself better than I would Like To admit
I'm as simple as a tear drop, a jean skirt in seminary,
lonely as bicycle handle bars in January
cold as an old wedding ring discarded upon some counter top, left behind a list of debts that will never get paid off
but you make every movement so minuscule seem literary, every moment all of the sudden becomes legendary, parking lots stuffed up like civil war cemeteries speak to me like Keats, please
your the only friend I want, the only friend I need
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Michael Pancini Valparaiso, Indiana
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