552

Could you malign my character
Instead of insinuating support
Since we are clearly not aligned as renegades
Cause I’d rather be tied to these blocks
And thrown into the creepy deep
Than to stand here with you as you wince
With every bold step that we should be making together
You’re simply not made from the same steel pieces
So the tag-a-long cuteness you provide
With your trite coy flat-line smiles and shoulder shrugs
Isn’t going to stand the test of time
Cause the finalists must be base jumpers
Who are ready to ride the rails, fly or die
Each will have their fan club and followers
Perhaps there will be room for you in them
But on the risers – first, second, and third
There will be winners and no vagabonds
Who are merely associated, possibly supportive, but not brave

551

The world is full of options
And if you and I
Have gotten to the place
Where I only have one step to take
The step that you have declared
Then common sense says
A couple of things
First, we are not walking
In the same direction
Next, you care more about
Declaring your power
Than affirming
Our common good

The world is full of options
Each as beautiful as the next
A few more clearer than some others
And some point back to you
If you don’t see them
That’s not on me
Declare your own blindness
It’s in these moments here
When you inch the door shut
While rolling your eyes
Exhaling, and wondering why
There is space between us
Space and more space and even more space

550

Navy and gold
On the Mileground
Fries and blue
At the popular dive
Skipping school
And working 2 jobs

Teaching kids on Sunday
Touring with the group
Cliff-diving into black water
Skinny dippin’ just because
Tippin’ cows to say you did
And pepperoni rolls at Town Hill

Jack and Scotch – an endless supply
Runnin’ dirt roads fast like idiots
Hiking Cooper’s rock in awe
Let’s Go, Mountaineers on Friday Night
Dating church girls I didn’t love
And dreaming of the godly woman I did

Knowing I only had a few short months
With some of the best friends I’d ever had
Morgantown was in total just a blur
Just a grand flash and a quick commotion
And an abrupt ending to something that hardly started
Barely a hawk before I flew

549

this dark
is as dark
as Kingston
when we prayed
over the city
of secrets

small street lamps
flickered like stars
a type of hope
not felt but known
and a few of us
spoke it through

it makes me wonder
if evil – on it’s best day
is as aware
of its doom
as we – on our worst
are aware of victory

548

When I was a kid
I would sit for hours
Reading the liner notes
Of every new album
I could get my hands on

I devoured that information
I sat at the feet of songwriters
And storytellers and musicians
And read every word and I listened
Over and over and over again

And I wanted – needed to know
Who wrote it and with whom
Who was on the vocals
Who played each instrument
Who produced and who coproduced

It was the one thing I was hungry for
I had to check out each new release
Every artist-every group-every genre
I lost days, excited for inspiration
And could soar for hours on a song

And I wrote and wrote poems and songs
Journal after journal, page after page
I was brave and loved being brave
And I so wanted to one day be listed
In the liner notes – oh what a thrill

I never wanted to taste or smell like
The center stage of it all
In truth, I hate that I ever said yes
Because standing tall in the center
In many ways means standing alone

No one ever accuses the songwriter
Of being a prima-donna or a liege
No one ever throws stones at the choir
So when the fire came on the frontline
I sang the song like it deserved

And I thought – really thought
That that would win the day
Would be enough to escape the jeers
But confidence, even when faked,
In the eyes of the red – is arrogant

Seeds of jealousy grow even more green
When important people are pleased
So they attacked-a few of them-enough
And the music died in me
I don’t think I’ll ever get it back

I think it would do their souls good
To say thanks-for music-during that
Even though all you really wanted
Was to write a few songs
And sing a little harmony

Every now and then I try to remember
How good it felt when it was good
Before every bitter revelation
And I wonder what more could have been
Written and played and sung

547

He used to hug them all
And could spot right from wrong
Fairness was His sixth sense
And it poured from him so smoothly
And we all could count on him
To pour velvet from the mouth
At just the right time
Such that the room would coo
Such that the tide would turn

But now the job builds walls
Not from heart but from space
He doesn’t always know
Who sits on right – Who sits on wrong
So he needs an inner sense
An old tool out of the belt
At just the right time
The gaze that reads the room
The gaze that knows the soul

He knows who hung the moon
Quite well and he’ll do fine
Cause any lack can soar
On the arrow of an archer
And history will hold him
As one who knew no mire
At just the right time
He will become known by
He will become known for

546

I’m about to spill it
To the white beard

I’ve learned not to put a lot of stock into it
Bridled hope is still hope, I think

I don’t know if I have enough strength
To guide the gallop or follow the map

I suppose my intended outcome is simply “better”
‘Cause I don’t want to drive today

All I know is that there is only one gear
For most of us these days, I fear

545

When we hold hands
You can’t snap at me
And maybe that’s it
Maybe that’s why
You numb me so

Drape me with cloaks
Heavy – dark – sound proof
I’m deaf and alone
Maybe that’s why
You numb me so

I am empty
Out of strength and time
Out of light and drive
Maybe that’s why
You numb me so

544