A Fragment of Thought

someday i’m not going to wake up.
that was me you passed back there,
that was you you left back there,
where tires and lives are irretrievable.
i erase a misshapen letter when
it needs to remain the most illegible
and parade my cannon
when people cannot understand.
the dust settles. my road is
straight and narrow. you are further
today than ever before; air, sun,
cold and sleep- ocean eyes
and complement, what is our meaning?
where do we meet? where do we
turn? who has surmounted
ourselves and where does that banner
burn? where does it loft in the breeze?

You’re Gonna Make Me Lonesome When You Go

I’ve seen love go by my door
It’s never been this close before
Never been so easy or so slow.
Been shooting in the dark too long
When somethin’s not right it’s wrong
Yer gonna make me lonesome when you go.

Dragon clouds so high above
I’ve only known careless love,
It’s always hit me from below.
This time around it’s more correct
Right on target, so direct,
Yer gonna make me lonesome when you go.

Purple clover, Queen Anne lace,
Crimson hair across your face,
You could make me cry if you don’t know.
Can’t remember what I was thinkin’ of
You might be spoilin’ me too much, love,
Yer gonna make me lonesome when you go.

Flowers on the hillside, bloomin’ crazy,
Crickets talkin’ back and forth in rhyme,
Blue river runnin’ slow and lazy,
I could stay with you forever
And never realize the time.

Situations have ended sad,
Relationships have all been bad.
Mine’ve been like Verlaine’s and Rimbaud.
But there’s no way I can compare
All those scenes to this affair,
Yer gonna make me lonesome when you go.

Yer gonna make me wonder what I’m doin’,
Stayin’ far behind without you.
Yer gonna make me wonder what I’m sayin’,
Yer gonna make me give myself a good talkin’ to.

I’ll look for you in old Honolulu,
San Francisco, Ashtabula,
Yer gonna have to leave me now, I know.
But I’ll see you in the sky above,
In the tall grass, in the ones I love,
Yer gonna make me lonesome when you go.

-Bob Dylan

the dead weight of possession

crowds me to the earth, crops

a shrinking field of vision- mud

and grass, brown like the bricklayer’s

sunburnt abandon; the

march of perdition sings in my

joints and my marrow

there beside a thousand

slain, a thousand brothers,

sisters, wanderers, aggregate

strangers, dislocated, mingled and sold, 

for a hope and a voice in our silences. oh,

peace, wear the rags of my people!

your love rises in the distance

like a mountain, coming slow,

rattling like a chain, a tambourine,

a blood steeped hammer and a nail.

the ground shakes and fear

is it’s parent. let your eyes be

what color they will for i love you.