when next i am to sleep again
will you be there with sheepish grin
i will not brush nor turn away
see you not in yesterday
again we make the figure 8
bells go tingling in the night
books unwritten taking flight
candles dim but light is longer
midnight come and we will go now
dawn
noon
dusk
the nightmare came strongly to a him repulsive kiss
before he half collapsed
his arm over her shoulder her arm around his waist
she would find him a hospital bed medical help
white nurse offensive
fat lady without compassion (expected)
phones had secret codes
who were patients non discernibile
over an hour she supported him
walking thru a maze of hallways
once she woke and remembered
all her nightmares took place in hospitals
falling back asleep she was there
still seeking hospital bed and help
“ok” her self said, “wake up”
coffeed and tobaccoed
the hopes and fears thru all the years
rest in autumn peace
the struggle with no resolution
put to rest
in it’s own halls of circularity
as piano man ‘splained
“too much mercy is wasteful,
too lightening bolt heavy is non justice.”
and Jesus said to Moses,
“What the crap happened
to Abraham’s children?”
justice lives not only in the now
sometimes it’s waiting in some halfway house
between the blood-letting and the peace
found
only with justice
what will reflect the blood on distant hands
that fashioned the knife
that foresaw the bomb
that Jack and Jill built?
that support the men
who light the fires
that scream the women
that scars the child.
does he hang down his head
Tom Dooley
or does he just look away
and dulled his senses
to no sense.
Is their hope Hooey?
Ah, Louie,
paint them a picture
from May to December
of eleven year old children or so
then when they remember if they remember they’ll
follow
follow
follow
(you know)
their heart.