don’t give them up

times

feeling the blues

thinking of you

& if it’s a bad time

I can get to let

those tears flow

if there’s a sad song

on the player

maybe coming over

on the radio

but if someone

were to call

came to my door

you

you or maybe you

don’t think

I’m going

to let you know

be giving them up

putting these

out for show

these things

you don’t need

ever

to know

keeper

30 days or more

on the road

I turned it in

wheel to the drive

she turned to me

hows’about

we turn it around

just forget

this for a while longer

go do all that over

try to get it right

this time?

that’s when I knew

the girl

was a keeper

don’t you?

at least

she told me

at least

I’m telling you

here & now

not over the phone

leaving some shitty note

lipstick on the mirror

sorry babe she told me

but we’re over

letting the silence go on

just hang

& she knew nothing

of my bad time today

my dying car

no money to catch a bus

my friend dropping me off

to come by in the a.m.

take me back home

ok ok I whispered

backing out of the door

I will not make a fuss

no last hugs

no ending kiss

heard her say

goodbye love

I closed the door

set out to walk

the long way home

giving her the last words

at least

had to turn away

in my hand

all I had was a card

offering condolences

for a lost love

ending their decades

as her tears fell

I had to turn away

had nothing else to give

& the same for you

ending our days

I thought you

were something other

than what you became

I had to turn away

else you felt

I had more to give

& I would not do that

create hope

idea of days to come

so I had to turn away

wait for the world

i hear them

pass by my window

as I sit

wait

for the world to stop spinning

he wants something

& she will give it

but maybe not just yet

he needs to earn it first

show willing

give himself up

& my window is closed

blinds are down

else I’d shout

even if I have learned

better than give

unwanted advice

find another

go elsewhere

someone who sees you

as equal

not a knave knocking

on an already opened door

instead I sit

wait

for the world to stop spinning

inspiration

to come

some poison sits

not all poisons kill

the body

or taste buds

some poison sits

waits

I see her everywhere here

her body shape

style

hair

while I know for sure

these are not her

or at least

please don’t let it be

such is this poison

sitting waiting

killing the moment

making me look up

recognise similarities

but never

to be with her

again

tour bus blues

the tour bus stops

needs get dealt with quick

empty the toilet

clue: no number 2’s on the tour bus

take in fresh water

find supplies

the food the booze

anything else comes to mind

always hard to find

‘the man’ in a new town

check out the local scene

& if lucky

the entertainment arrives

some shuffling hobo & harmonica

the helpful dad dragging the kids drums

out of the apartment

so the kid can play the carpark

rather than piss off the neighbours

or fistfights in the supermarket over nothing

after the miles the roads

you take whatever you can get

& applaud all of it

& oh the dutch

&

oh

the dutch

this idea of Europeans

white & all the same

so lazy

so reductionist

the efficient germans

devoid of humour

noisy Spanish

full of passions

snobby parisiangs

so different from the vichy French

& the Belgians

q’elle horreur

swedes finns norwegians

are not the same

as the English stiff upper lip

sweary football hooligans

port swigging

seafaring portuguese

yet

yet

italians pinching bottoms

walking into the med

fully clothed to end it all

such laziness

such sloppy thinking

&

oh the dutch

rue

that I ever met

threw in

spent so much time

with you

when before

I had a full bag

of certainties

which you

worked your way

thru’

& after

I had to start over

new

while you told

I was no good

had thrown me over

for bad blood

but only a fool

would take those words

as true