I woke up this morning…again.
Looked around at this
Half-broken morning.
Thought about what you
Said last night in the rain…
The last thing I remember
Is running and getting lost
In the sky scraping carnival lights.
I close my eyes to make it dark.
And I thought of what we said
On our backs under the
Twilight painting aura;
The promises, the prophecies
And that goddam diamond ring.
I found bits of my heart in my mouth,
Spit it out into the sink
With wet cigarettes and blood.
Nothing makes you shudder like
A bucket of ice water,
The empty bed beside you
Like a clinic’s sterile smell.
I don’t remember the good
In crying water to wash my face.
It can rain a long time
If it tries hard enough.
And a mirror looks foolish
When all bandaged up.
And the rain falling down
That night drowned out our
Smoldering backseat gospel.
And how come my smile dos’nt hurt my hands again?
I just stand around here in this…carnival light maze…

I’ve spun my heart into
A six-stringed narcotic;
Surrendered my pain to the
Callous fingered Poets.
I’ve twisted my soul into copper and
Steal bridges to heaven.
I’ve tapped my passion like a vein
And bled myself of inhibitions.
I am a voluntary slave,
A loyal addict.
My nicotine is in a twenty-fretted vial.
It’s sublime to behold the power
For serenity inherent in a pick.
I am an evening of untamed potential,
Like a blind date that’s moving too fast.
I am Addict. I am free.
I am Master. I am Slave.
I am…a Guitarist.