TVZ 2

Toes, feet and legs reving up speed
Suspended and frozen in dream
Past the last house on the corner
As the ghosts come out to play
In the early morning hours of winter
Bound by them on my back
A reel of string sits in my stomach
Needing to be wound like anxiety
Overwhelming the light of the plough
The steps I walked still cobble stone
Wood and water both overgrown
Depth and incline precisely engraved
The creeks from rusted hinges
Douglas fir perfumes. My finger tips
Trace the wooden frame in search
Of hope and answers
Someone follows in my shadow
Straining not to doze in sight
Of a touboador with dark hollow eyes
His words just a blur of my conscience
My D18 lies against the cabinets
That once seemed tripled in youth
Mahogany ignites with thunder and ice
A melody awakings like dawn in Spring
Pencil scribbles the words in my brain
Befriended by obession to it's darkness
I am lighted like a lamp of resolution
And harnessed from fear of reflection
Has he been awoken confused
Maybe time calling to anew
But what is time and it's skewed purpose
I've been here before
I wonder why I never blink to conclude
Venomously I rage
I am my own victim
I have designed this portrait
An abstract illusion of the night
Wicked and absoluteness swallowed
Like bourbon as I fly into the night
To escape my own desires to feed
Are these characters real? My father?
The family I will no longer mention
The spirit of a man sitting disoriented at my table. Have I pulled him from his other world?