1. On a Manchester day in May
The barking gods humped the lunatic skies of Manchester in May
I sat solving riddles underneath the canopy and you were on the balcony all smirking and smoking
with mischievous dreams and hopeless romantic memories of the past that never was and a future that wouldn't ever come.
I knew it and you knew I knew too.
All choked up with sobbing and reading newspapers and candlelit vigils with pacifism.
Then you were different.
It was like you were born to change and be changed.
You had it in your heart.
All the blueprints and transcripts and text book ideologies.
All of it burned a big blue hole within you.
It didn't break you.
It became you.
In a good way.
On a Manchester day in May
The barking gods humped the lunatic skies of Manchester in May
I sat solving riddles underneath the canopy and you were on the balcony all smirking and smoking
with mischievous dreams and hopeless romantic memories of the past that never was and a future that wouldn't ever come.
I knew it and you knew I knew too.
All choked up with sobbing and reading newspapers and candlelit vigils with pacifism.
Then you were different.
It was like you were born to change and be changed.
You had it in your heart.
All the blueprints and transcripts and text book ideologies.
All of it burned a big blue hole within you.
It didn't break you.
It became you.
In a good way.
On a Manchester day in May
***
2.Fuck you Philadelphia
Fuck you Philadelphia
With your martini restaurants and not one place to buy coffee past noon
Fuck you Philadelphia
with your construction worker corner delis and signs that say you sell coffee but there isn't any coffee there either
Fuck you Philadelphia
With your eulogy women and unexpected rainfalls
Fuck you Philadelphia
Always ATM machine coffee shops and concert posters with no music
Fuck you Philadelphia
Bikes chained to missing cat sings missing back wheels missing heart and soul
Fuck you Philadelphia
With your American ways liberty bell blues Betty Davis grave and outdated religious ceremonies
Fuck you Philadelphia
You're alright
I won't miss you
***
3. A Storyteller’s Nightmare
Tank tops and storytellers of wasted sex and sixteen hour nights
Billboards for bulletproof stockings
Exploring the everlasting effect of last night's parade
All things adventure and addiction leading you to your defiant destination
Locking yourself up in prison cells with handcuffs on queen size beds in Bethlehem worshiping God and yourself in the mirror across the room
Women in place of you and you in place of men instead of deadly dreams you have lifelike nightmares
Leading you to places that don't exist and people that don't want you
You hit a brick wall and it hits you back
Acting surprised as if to turn your back on freedom and let yourself be swept away by the love of night and the hate of the days you used to waste
All wasted sex in beds you never slept in and rooms you'd rather avoid
People that make you cringe
Like burned bridges over dry riverbeds and skeletons of the bones of her mother all dressed in white sheets and beatnik kerosene Kerouac crack pipes
Blaming everyone else for your own good day moonlight and anonymous animosity
All you and no one else
Selfish fragile faith in the ever changing sky and the always turning wheel of time
with life, love, liberty, and the pursuit of morning
***
4. Little Italy, Toronto
Part I
I recall thee in empty seat in Brooklyn off ocean parkway on summer day hot as hell with heat waves and rain clouds off in distant past lives
all lined up like aunts across the sunny sidewalk a block away from your mother’s home
with hilarious film scores and seven sea shanties from a seventies flick you saw on your nineteenth birthday
With me
In the back row of the theater
Hand jobs and shitty popcorn
I renounced my love like an asshole only interested in your reply and ignoring the empty words coming out of my full of shit mouth with Wednesday window visions of downstairs neighbor playtime and childhood fears of frivolous factory girl fun
so fucking afraid of being lonely feeling like the only fully born human among half sleeping slumber party parental figures
Creatures baying
In animal farm form
I still miss you on Sunday evenings like Adam missed Eve
every damn week I don't skip a beat with far away looks into history books
and French films form Canadian cinemas that closed down before the end of the twentieth century.
Before your father died.
Part II (the less meaningful part)
It's not me or you who's the real sinner but it's the bigger picture of pretense and pity that's got me beat
I'm sorry
I was sorry then and I'm still sorry now
Here I am acting like you're the guilty one just so I can sleep at night
You're as innocent as I used to be
I'm a little devil and you joked about it
There is indeed truth within the towering walls of every stupid joke
Goodbye
I've got to go and be me now
God knows I'd be someone else if those cards were still on the table
At least today I'd be someone other than me
I bet that someone else wouldn't be so fucking sad and sincere so here I am with roadmaps that always seem to lead me back to you no matter which way I turn
There you are
Heart in hand
Secrets in soft fingerprints and familiar palm
Tangerine tongue
With bubblegum back and forth kisses
Your mouth to mine and the other way back around
Now
Ring on middle finger and distant smile on sweet sad face
There go your eyes again
No longer sparkling
All wild and wedding-like Lillian late night talks in your walking closet
photographs and my postcards in your box hidden away behind your polka dot shirt I used to love with you in it all breasts and beautiful and my brain being broken by the vision of you
Goodnight now
Goodnight then from Little Italy, Toronto
Goodnight again and again and...
Again!!!!
Art Courtesy : Zac Booth
Email info@enzeecreative.com (www.enzeecreative.com)
2.Fuck you Philadelphia
Fuck you Philadelphia
With your martini restaurants and not one place to buy coffee past noon
Fuck you Philadelphia
with your construction worker corner delis and signs that say you sell coffee but there isn't any coffee there either
Fuck you Philadelphia
With your eulogy women and unexpected rainfalls
Fuck you Philadelphia
Always ATM machine coffee shops and concert posters with no music
Fuck you Philadelphia
Bikes chained to missing cat sings missing back wheels missing heart and soul
Fuck you Philadelphia
With your American ways liberty bell blues Betty Davis grave and outdated religious ceremonies
Fuck you Philadelphia
You're alright
I won't miss you
***
3. A Storyteller’s Nightmare
Tank tops and storytellers of wasted sex and sixteen hour nights
Billboards for bulletproof stockings
Exploring the everlasting effect of last night's parade
All things adventure and addiction leading you to your defiant destination
Locking yourself up in prison cells with handcuffs on queen size beds in Bethlehem worshiping God and yourself in the mirror across the room
Women in place of you and you in place of men instead of deadly dreams you have lifelike nightmares
Leading you to places that don't exist and people that don't want you
You hit a brick wall and it hits you back
Acting surprised as if to turn your back on freedom and let yourself be swept away by the love of night and the hate of the days you used to waste
All wasted sex in beds you never slept in and rooms you'd rather avoid
People that make you cringe
Like burned bridges over dry riverbeds and skeletons of the bones of her mother all dressed in white sheets and beatnik kerosene Kerouac crack pipes
Blaming everyone else for your own good day moonlight and anonymous animosity
All you and no one else
Selfish fragile faith in the ever changing sky and the always turning wheel of time
with life, love, liberty, and the pursuit of morning
***
4. Little Italy, Toronto
Part I
I recall thee in empty seat in Brooklyn off ocean parkway on summer day hot as hell with heat waves and rain clouds off in distant past lives
all lined up like aunts across the sunny sidewalk a block away from your mother’s home
with hilarious film scores and seven sea shanties from a seventies flick you saw on your nineteenth birthday
With me
In the back row of the theater
Hand jobs and shitty popcorn
I renounced my love like an asshole only interested in your reply and ignoring the empty words coming out of my full of shit mouth with Wednesday window visions of downstairs neighbor playtime and childhood fears of frivolous factory girl fun
so fucking afraid of being lonely feeling like the only fully born human among half sleeping slumber party parental figures
Creatures baying
In animal farm form
I still miss you on Sunday evenings like Adam missed Eve
every damn week I don't skip a beat with far away looks into history books
and French films form Canadian cinemas that closed down before the end of the twentieth century.
Before your father died.
Part II (the less meaningful part)
It's not me or you who's the real sinner but it's the bigger picture of pretense and pity that's got me beat
I'm sorry
I was sorry then and I'm still sorry now
Here I am acting like you're the guilty one just so I can sleep at night
You're as innocent as I used to be
I'm a little devil and you joked about it
There is indeed truth within the towering walls of every stupid joke
Goodbye
I've got to go and be me now
God knows I'd be someone else if those cards were still on the table
At least today I'd be someone other than me
I bet that someone else wouldn't be so fucking sad and sincere so here I am with roadmaps that always seem to lead me back to you no matter which way I turn
There you are
Heart in hand
Secrets in soft fingerprints and familiar palm
Tangerine tongue
With bubblegum back and forth kisses
Your mouth to mine and the other way back around
Now
Ring on middle finger and distant smile on sweet sad face
There go your eyes again
No longer sparkling
All wild and wedding-like Lillian late night talks in your walking closet
photographs and my postcards in your box hidden away behind your polka dot shirt I used to love with you in it all breasts and beautiful and my brain being broken by the vision of you
Goodnight now
Goodnight then from Little Italy, Toronto
Goodnight again and again and...
Again!!!!
Art Courtesy : Zac Booth
Email info@enzeecreative.com (www.enzeecreative.com)
