coup stick

me and

my big mouth

oh lets go to the city

there’s that great antique

curio store

where I bought some antlers

to make the coup stick

I’ve never been there

she says cold

that must have been with

one of your other women

& things

got very quiet after that

& you know like i know

mebbe not the sharpest

brightest

knife in the box

but i know

like when you know

you feel the burn

the hippy chick in the store

dropping your ten

in her lap

coming up with a one

you gave me a one sir

& you know

like I know

you’ve been burned

people talking to each other

over your head

got some inside going on

not blatantly winking

but you know

much as I know

feel the burn

the game playing along

mebbe not the sharpest

brightest knife in the box

but you know

like I know

when there is a burn

going on

but think

nights sitting

all on my own

nothing to drink

but think

no way to get high

thoughts spinning

going over & over

cartwheeling echoing

cold as moon beams

crossing the floor

& I had no one to call

nobody to hear

anything I might not say

y’know its bad

when you get that way

no longer trusting yourself

hoping for a bright new day

this is the why

the people who raised me

paint me as liar

middle of the night

I’d be two years old

hearing bad noises

toddling into the living room

my mother against the window

my father middle of the room

her screaming

he’s going to hit me!

get me the poker!

& starting to reach for it

hanging there by the fire

& the old man shouting

no! don’t you dare!

& there

the memory ends

they would prefer

I had forgotten these things

straight to my eyes

she told me straight to my eyes

I was being a jealous prick

but I knew deep

feeling in my belly

all tight there

back behind the eyes

these two

were going to be together

& I was going to be

yesterdays fella

the once was

has been

so I kept my mouth shut

let them roll right over me

& you know like I know

there is no love

in

I told you so

learning not to lie

when you come from a house of pain

with its attendant hall of mirrors

where truth spoken is the opposite

learning not to lie

is a whole new way of being

standing straight speaking out

forces the label of troublemaker

wind up merchant stirrer of the pot

when all you are saying

here lay the truths buried in plots

& then come the kickers add ons

of omitting omissions

telling it straight as it is

being cruel to be kind

rather than some fake nice

more open to fact than emotion

but always still

letting how you feel be important

just as important as your

feelings are to you

he wrote

I like that piece you did

all about death

that got me but I loved it

& when we met

I thanked him of course

for the comment

can you remind me I asked

which piece it was?

oh yeah it was all about

you walking the streets

looking looking for something

somebody to hold on to

finding nothing everyday

just keeping going on

oh yeah I remember that I said

yeah I got the death part

he smiled I got that deep

glad to be of service

I smiled back

lets get a drink

thinking he got death?

from that?

wait ‘til he finds the maudlin one

about loss