Poet Introduction Sweet sorrow that flows from the heart and down frigid fingertips, luminous love that lingers longingly by the languid lodge, deathly desires that draw ever-near, dodging deeds of daring and dear.
The rain beads up on the glass Drags itself back as we pass Thirty-five, forty-five, fifty-five and up Up to a hundred twenty and such One-twenty-five, one-thirty five and up The air splits to make way for us And we are the kings of this black road Coal dust and asphalt is our abode
I remember when we used to walk And you would tell me about the rocks The trees, the shrubs, the moss and such What you can eat and what not to touch And I remember my first choke cherry The bitter taste of a sharp-pitted berry So too do I remember heaps of wild mint The astringent scent in little hints And teaching me to collect dry greens Along with many legumes and beans I miss our walks and I miss our talks But that's okay, I still love you mom.
The honeysuckle blooms in the spring Wild orange trumpets that silently sing Beside wild rose hips that may sting The honeysuckle reigns like kings And the shaggy-barked woods whisper Like a sultry maiden before you kiss her Sweet nothings, its own sweet language The lonely woods sit there and languish
I'll turn off my feelings for you Flip a switch and cull the zoo And I'll stop saying that I love you If that is what you really want, too And I'll become cold and unfeeling If it keeps you from backwards reeling Surely I'll never lose this big feeling But surely your life I won't be stealing Have your boyfriend and start a family Far better than this body I call calamity But just don't begin to call me the enemy You have always had a best friend in me.
Now I carry on for a little while but all the while Running the...
Wish I could love like I used to Now breakups stand tween' us Like corpses hung up in the pines And rifles left to rot by the Rhine I wish I could hold someone like I used to Now all that we hold are reservations Like bayonets affixed upon our weapons And your love is far and distantly gone Like the dead that stand between us And wedding rings thrown to the sands