So I guess I was wrong,
It’s buried somewhere,
Under a pile of something,
To be found at a later date,
And we’ll all have a good laugh.
That’s if we’re still plugging along,
After this last explosion not so sure,
Just another one of those days,
Embarrassed to be in my own skin,
Not enough apologies in the world.
The worst kind of somebody,
Clinging madly to handfuls of nothing,
Destroying what little was left,
That’s fine, I understand, go ahead,
Do what you must and I’ll just shut up.
In the early dawn it all still remains,
Emotions like flames doused,
But all the other issues all the pains,
Nothing has changed, nothing fixed,
Slap another bandage onto your wounds.
7.01.2007
Ranney regulars
We show up at the park bright and early,
No one’s there which is good I guess,
But I that means I just got stood up,
Zed and I grab our boards and give it a go,
But there’s trash everywhere, especially in the bowl.
50 gallon trash cans, completely dumped,
Pieces and parts of cameras and boards,
Four or five shirts, a big old beach towel,
But the worst is the sand and dirt in the elbow,
Making our little skate mecca, a hellhole.
Doug shows up with a broom and dustpan,
Dude must have read my mind, starts sweeping,
Chit-chatted for a minute about this and that,
We had that sucker cleaned up in ten minutes flat,
No energy after that, all else was just anti-climatic.
Zed carved the round wall four or five times,
Taking some pics, giving him high-fives,
But as for me, something’s not clicking,
Can’t get excited about even this here,
Been wasting my days at the bar drinking beers.
I went and talked to the twenty-something wannabe,
Chatted up the nine-year-old with attitude,
Funny to hear someone else’s take on life,
Zed keeps to himself, just carving along,
I take some pics, so far away, so far gone.
No one’s there which is good I guess,
But I that means I just got stood up,
Zed and I grab our boards and give it a go,
But there’s trash everywhere, especially in the bowl.
50 gallon trash cans, completely dumped,
Pieces and parts of cameras and boards,
Four or five shirts, a big old beach towel,
But the worst is the sand and dirt in the elbow,
Making our little skate mecca, a hellhole.
Doug shows up with a broom and dustpan,
Dude must have read my mind, starts sweeping,
Chit-chatted for a minute about this and that,
We had that sucker cleaned up in ten minutes flat,
No energy after that, all else was just anti-climatic.
Zed carved the round wall four or five times,
Taking some pics, giving him high-fives,
But as for me, something’s not clicking,
Can’t get excited about even this here,
Been wasting my days at the bar drinking beers.
I went and talked to the twenty-something wannabe,
Chatted up the nine-year-old with attitude,
Funny to hear someone else’s take on life,
Zed keeps to himself, just carving along,
I take some pics, so far away, so far gone.
6.28.2007
just don't know
white SUV sitting at the corner,
we roll up, quequed up behind the line,
guess we coulda let him in, sure,
oh well, another 45 seconds wasted,
windows up A/C blasting at 75 degrees(?!),
gonna have to sit and wait college man,
that bar stool's gonna be lonely for your fat ass.
so homeboy, out of spite, lays right on the horn,
z-man sittin in the front, Little E right behind,
Nancy sandwiched between me and E,
apparently he wanted to vent,
wanted us to know that he didn't approve,
B stopped the daabaan, sitting in the queque,
i was out before she could tell me what to do.
"what is your flipn problem you damn simpleton,
you wanna fight, get the fuck outta the car!",
he was yellin at me, windows all the way up,
didn't even give me the benefit of a roll down,
then he gave me the bird, mouthed some other words,
I smile, asked him to get outta his ride,
smilin cuz I knew B would smack him from the other side.
no need to worry about me, you need to watch out for B,
don't ever honk at my binojiinhs in the car,
don't expect either of us to sit and argue with you,
i wanted blood--yours or mine, i don't give a fuck,
but noticed your passengers didn't say a word,
stared straight ahead and averted their gazes,
the first fucker to step out is gonna get laid out.
wait a sec, let me grab my skateboard,
what if the S.O.B.'s packing some heat,
I'm gonna die someday so doesn't matter,
I prefer to do so on my feet,
mutha lover, next time just let it go,
cuz someone like me might lay you low,
so think before you blow, cuz you just don't know.
we roll up, quequed up behind the line,
guess we coulda let him in, sure,
oh well, another 45 seconds wasted,
windows up A/C blasting at 75 degrees(?!),
gonna have to sit and wait college man,
that bar stool's gonna be lonely for your fat ass.
so homeboy, out of spite, lays right on the horn,
z-man sittin in the front, Little E right behind,
Nancy sandwiched between me and E,
apparently he wanted to vent,
wanted us to know that he didn't approve,
B stopped the daabaan, sitting in the queque,
i was out before she could tell me what to do.
"what is your flipn problem you damn simpleton,
you wanna fight, get the fuck outta the car!",
he was yellin at me, windows all the way up,
didn't even give me the benefit of a roll down,
then he gave me the bird, mouthed some other words,
I smile, asked him to get outta his ride,
smilin cuz I knew B would smack him from the other side.
no need to worry about me, you need to watch out for B,
don't ever honk at my binojiinhs in the car,
don't expect either of us to sit and argue with you,
i wanted blood--yours or mine, i don't give a fuck,
but noticed your passengers didn't say a word,
stared straight ahead and averted their gazes,
the first fucker to step out is gonna get laid out.
wait a sec, let me grab my skateboard,
what if the S.O.B.'s packing some heat,
I'm gonna die someday so doesn't matter,
I prefer to do so on my feet,
mutha lover, next time just let it go,
cuz someone like me might lay you low,
so think before you blow, cuz you just don't know.
phantom memories
Just let go, just move on,
Nothing there to keep me anyway,
Just phantom memories of you,
Not that there ever was anything,
There never even was an us.
There was a you and me of course,
A her and the two of you--yes,
And it just gets more complicated,
So maybe I’ll leave it at that,
Leave it half-finished like everything else.
Potential means you ain’t done nothing,
So I’ll go back to doing exactly that,
As for all those other deeper issues,
Well, I got too many others awaiting me,
And did I mention the three binojiinhs?
Truth, love--all that other flowery stuff,
I guess I’ll leave that to the philosophers,
Internet chatrooms and armchair quarterbacks,
I’m too busy living and screwing it all up,
At least its real and not merely phantoms.
Beauty, truth, ego, what does any of that mean,
I don’t know, really just need to go,
Just really need to shut up, move on,
All those things we used to long for,
They’re still in me, in you, in my little girl.
The same struggles as ever before,
But how do I bring them to reality,
Make those things real and solid,
Teach her and her brothers about life,
When I myself am barely holding on.
Nothing there to keep me anyway,
Just phantom memories of you,
Not that there ever was anything,
There never even was an us.
There was a you and me of course,
A her and the two of you--yes,
And it just gets more complicated,
So maybe I’ll leave it at that,
Leave it half-finished like everything else.
Potential means you ain’t done nothing,
So I’ll go back to doing exactly that,
As for all those other deeper issues,
Well, I got too many others awaiting me,
And did I mention the three binojiinhs?
Truth, love--all that other flowery stuff,
I guess I’ll leave that to the philosophers,
Internet chatrooms and armchair quarterbacks,
I’m too busy living and screwing it all up,
At least its real and not merely phantoms.
Beauty, truth, ego, what does any of that mean,
I don’t know, really just need to go,
Just really need to shut up, move on,
All those things we used to long for,
They’re still in me, in you, in my little girl.
The same struggles as ever before,
But how do I bring them to reality,
Make those things real and solid,
Teach her and her brothers about life,
When I myself am barely holding on.
surely you jest
Someone once said to me,
Maybe in jest, maybe seriously,
That there were no faithful men,
Only repressed men, faking the faith,
Doing it for someone else’s sake.
I don’t know if she was right or not,
And honestly I don’t really much care,
We are what we are for better or worse,
We do the best that we can, most times,
Otherwise we stumble about as if cursed.
Love and devotion and all of that,
Great in theory, but is it reality,
Or inventions of some gentleman poet,
Wasting away his days with alcohol,
Spending his nights seeped in flesh.
Telling others how t live this life,
Whilst he himself did as he pleased,
Sharing his views about the ideal,
Passing them off us as being real,
Placing all the expectations on us.
Maybe in jest, maybe seriously,
That there were no faithful men,
Only repressed men, faking the faith,
Doing it for someone else’s sake.
I don’t know if she was right or not,
And honestly I don’t really much care,
We are what we are for better or worse,
We do the best that we can, most times,
Otherwise we stumble about as if cursed.
Love and devotion and all of that,
Great in theory, but is it reality,
Or inventions of some gentleman poet,
Wasting away his days with alcohol,
Spending his nights seeped in flesh.
Telling others how t live this life,
Whilst he himself did as he pleased,
Sharing his views about the ideal,
Passing them off us as being real,
Placing all the expectations on us.
6.27.2007
miigwetch (thank you)
I pay homage to the Thunder-Beings,
Rolling across the sky bringing gimewon,
Sweet cool rain to our sun-soaked fields,
My sky clan loved ones awaken to the spirit,
A-was-a-set, little Thundebolt, heard them miles away.
Bee-da-bin, light in the sky before the sun rises,
Energized with electricity, just like her sons,
Dawning of a new day, endless possibilities,
As my little wildflower, Wa-was-kone-ehs,
rooted in earth, rooted in reality, watches with wonder.
Zhash-kwo-ge-zhik, color of the sky, dark green,
Before a tornado tears the mitigwaki asunder,
The thick forests, trunks and limbs akimbo,
Leaves plucked and torn from their branches,
Quietly sits and ponders unknown things.
Destruction and creation all at once,
I am the nameless one, a Nodwe wandering,
From the snake people east of the lakes,
Their enemy in another time and place,
But we have been scattered to the winds.
We find ourselves in kinship to one another,
Blown and battered by so many storms,
The unending march of time forward,
Living in the land of the Little Chief,
On the banks of the Mzko-ge-zhik Ze-be-ans.
O-ge-ma-as, your nation yet remains,
Living with and amongst the zhaagnosh,
Perhaps they will outlast them as well,
As the southern nations have survived,
Built great Aniishiinabe cities in which they dwell.
Conquistadors long dead and buried,
Their language remains but what else,
Icons of their culture, all but assimilated,
What does the future hold for the rest of us,
Chimookimonisiing miinaawaa Zhaagnoshisiing?
Thunder-Beings, do you see the future,
Would we believe you even if you told us,
We who no longer speak our own language,
What is to be shall be, or so our prophets say,
But so many no longer believe even in them.
So many times in our histories we have survived,
Old ways merged with the new time and again,
Creating something completely different,
Sometimes better sometimes worse,
But change means you are at least still living.
The alternative is to die, to fade away,
To be lost to history, to disappear forever,
So we continue and try to live as we can,
Tell our children the stories we were taught,
Remind them of those who came before.
Thunder-beings, Nodin-Bineshiinhs and friends,
Water panthers, Ogichidaa society of old,
Big drum and medicine lodge as well,
All teach us about our history and ourselves,
Chi Miigwetch to our elders, warriors and healers.
Chi Miigwetch to our creator, Zhe-Manido,
The Great Mystery, the great spirit in us all,
Chi Miigwetch for this life, and the little ones,
The binojiinhs, the children, who remind their parents,
Of what is most important, bring us back to the truth,
Kaanaagaanaa—honor to all my relations—.
Rolling across the sky bringing gimewon,
Sweet cool rain to our sun-soaked fields,
My sky clan loved ones awaken to the spirit,
A-was-a-set, little Thundebolt, heard them miles away.
Bee-da-bin, light in the sky before the sun rises,
Energized with electricity, just like her sons,
Dawning of a new day, endless possibilities,
As my little wildflower, Wa-was-kone-ehs,
rooted in earth, rooted in reality, watches with wonder.
Zhash-kwo-ge-zhik, color of the sky, dark green,
Before a tornado tears the mitigwaki asunder,
The thick forests, trunks and limbs akimbo,
Leaves plucked and torn from their branches,
Quietly sits and ponders unknown things.
Destruction and creation all at once,
I am the nameless one, a Nodwe wandering,
From the snake people east of the lakes,
Their enemy in another time and place,
But we have been scattered to the winds.
We find ourselves in kinship to one another,
Blown and battered by so many storms,
The unending march of time forward,
Living in the land of the Little Chief,
On the banks of the Mzko-ge-zhik Ze-be-ans.
O-ge-ma-as, your nation yet remains,
Living with and amongst the zhaagnosh,
Perhaps they will outlast them as well,
As the southern nations have survived,
Built great Aniishiinabe cities in which they dwell.
Conquistadors long dead and buried,
Their language remains but what else,
Icons of their culture, all but assimilated,
What does the future hold for the rest of us,
Chimookimonisiing miinaawaa Zhaagnoshisiing?
Thunder-Beings, do you see the future,
Would we believe you even if you told us,
We who no longer speak our own language,
What is to be shall be, or so our prophets say,
But so many no longer believe even in them.
So many times in our histories we have survived,
Old ways merged with the new time and again,
Creating something completely different,
Sometimes better sometimes worse,
But change means you are at least still living.
The alternative is to die, to fade away,
To be lost to history, to disappear forever,
So we continue and try to live as we can,
Tell our children the stories we were taught,
Remind them of those who came before.
Thunder-beings, Nodin-Bineshiinhs and friends,
Water panthers, Ogichidaa society of old,
Big drum and medicine lodge as well,
All teach us about our history and ourselves,
Chi Miigwetch to our elders, warriors and healers.
Chi Miigwetch to our creator, Zhe-Manido,
The Great Mystery, the great spirit in us all,
Chi Miigwetch for this life, and the little ones,
The binojiinhs, the children, who remind their parents,
Of what is most important, bring us back to the truth,
Kaanaagaanaa—honor to all my relations—.
sitting at the rail
Why do we come here you and I,
Just to eat and drink and pass the time,
We could do this right at home,
All alone, less expense, less noise,
But seems nice to be one of the boys.
Reminds me of my college days,
The good ones, the fun ones,
Meeting people for the first time,
Sharing our stories and ourselves,
Opening to life in so many ways.
I’m not the youngest at the rail,
But look to be with my babyface,
Never imagined I’d become a barfly,
Chatting with retirees and seniors,
Feeling connected, almost like family.
Some of the younger guys know my cousins,
Went to school with them just up the road,
And there’s a bunch that’s my age,
Though some of them seem older,
Some have aged with little grace.
There are some strange connections for sure,
Keno Dave and I lived in the same dorm,
Henry worked for Olds twenty years before,
Right where I work today, the exact same site,
And a coupla guys grew up in near me in Detroit.
Chazbo’s new girlfriend taught our kids,
Blake grew up listening to the same music I did,
He worked for Jeff used to own that one record shop,
Just north of campus, next to Peanut Barrel,
In front of the fountain on the second floor.
Tom provides chiro services to my buddy,
Another guy I knew from State,
That also happened to know my uncle,
When they were both Detroit cops,
A lifetime ago, just learning his chops.
George knows my wife’s Uncle Paul,
From when they hung out down the road,
Across the street from Lake Lansing,
Something like thirty years ago or so,
Back when you and I were still just tykes.
I was talking to someone about family,
Funny how sometimes we make our own,
Friends/cousins/whomever we hold dear,
Are almost like parents/sisters/brothers,
People we relate to better than others.
We create our own families and tribes,
Out of those we meet on our path,
Some of us have a great need for that,
Instead of wallowing and drinking alone,
Wasting away our finite days, rotting at home.
Just to eat and drink and pass the time,
We could do this right at home,
All alone, less expense, less noise,
But seems nice to be one of the boys.
Reminds me of my college days,
The good ones, the fun ones,
Meeting people for the first time,
Sharing our stories and ourselves,
Opening to life in so many ways.
I’m not the youngest at the rail,
But look to be with my babyface,
Never imagined I’d become a barfly,
Chatting with retirees and seniors,
Feeling connected, almost like family.
Some of the younger guys know my cousins,
Went to school with them just up the road,
And there’s a bunch that’s my age,
Though some of them seem older,
Some have aged with little grace.
There are some strange connections for sure,
Keno Dave and I lived in the same dorm,
Henry worked for Olds twenty years before,
Right where I work today, the exact same site,
And a coupla guys grew up in near me in Detroit.
Chazbo’s new girlfriend taught our kids,
Blake grew up listening to the same music I did,
He worked for Jeff used to own that one record shop,
Just north of campus, next to Peanut Barrel,
In front of the fountain on the second floor.
Tom provides chiro services to my buddy,
Another guy I knew from State,
That also happened to know my uncle,
When they were both Detroit cops,
A lifetime ago, just learning his chops.
George knows my wife’s Uncle Paul,
From when they hung out down the road,
Across the street from Lake Lansing,
Something like thirty years ago or so,
Back when you and I were still just tykes.
I was talking to someone about family,
Funny how sometimes we make our own,
Friends/cousins/whomever we hold dear,
Are almost like parents/sisters/brothers,
People we relate to better than others.
We create our own families and tribes,
Out of those we meet on our path,
Some of us have a great need for that,
Instead of wallowing and drinking alone,
Wasting away our finite days, rotting at home.
went to the lake
Went to the lake first time in forever,
Hardly anyone there, despite the heat,
Temperatures hovering around 90 degrees,
So many more options these days,
Aquatic center, splash pads, public pools,
So many different places to play.
I used to be so embarrassed at the beach,
Not trying to impress anyone anymore,
I’m about as average as you can get,
Just there to cool off and swim,
Hang with the children for an afternoon,
No time to worry about my vanity.
Murky algae and weed infested,
But still has a nice sandy beach,
And a huge spacious lawn for playing,
Grass feels like soft carpeting underfoot,
Tall trees not quite avenue-like provides shade,
Forgot how much I liked this place.
We walk away smelling like the lake,
Fish carcasses weeds and whatever,
Never bothered me much before,
Smells hit me so differently,
As time goes by as the years pass,
So much has changed seems so fast.
Been living here almost twenty years,
Skated out to the lake one afternoon,
To young too stoned to know better,
The subdivision across the way,
Brand new roads freshly paved,
Good memories but not as good as today’s.
Hardly anyone there, despite the heat,
Temperatures hovering around 90 degrees,
So many more options these days,
Aquatic center, splash pads, public pools,
So many different places to play.
I used to be so embarrassed at the beach,
Not trying to impress anyone anymore,
I’m about as average as you can get,
Just there to cool off and swim,
Hang with the children for an afternoon,
No time to worry about my vanity.
Murky algae and weed infested,
But still has a nice sandy beach,
And a huge spacious lawn for playing,
Grass feels like soft carpeting underfoot,
Tall trees not quite avenue-like provides shade,
Forgot how much I liked this place.
We walk away smelling like the lake,
Fish carcasses weeds and whatever,
Never bothered me much before,
Smells hit me so differently,
As time goes by as the years pass,
So much has changed seems so fast.
Been living here almost twenty years,
Skated out to the lake one afternoon,
To young too stoned to know better,
The subdivision across the way,
Brand new roads freshly paved,
Good memories but not as good as today’s.
Ian's 16th
The kids wanted to hoop,
So we strolled down to the school,
Avon-something-or-other Hills,
Rolled through the new subdivision,
Shades of Sterling Hts. all over,
Twenty years past my own teen years.
My nephews/Ian, Azhebek and Waasnode,
Sixteen, thirteen and ten,
My kids Zhaawosh and Waawaas,
Fourteen and twelve respectively,
Where has the time gone,
How did they all get so old?
My cuz Gezhik and I leading the way,
Reminiscing as we went,
This game or that game,
Do you remember when,
that pow wow in Toronto,
when we went to Wikmemikong.
Gezh, you shoulda finished school,
Shoulda transferred to E.L.,
Moved out to Hazlett or wherever,
But I got my own list too,
Shoulda, coulda, woulda,
So much time just flew by.
Little Thunderbolt stayed behind,
Ewaseset-Nodin hanging with auntie,
Still only four years old,
A chip off the old block,
I’m gonna be in so much s@#%,
If that boy pulls half the stuff I did.
He’s waiting for some birthday cake,
Wants some of them giveways,
We all converged to help celebrate,
My nephew Ian’s sixteenth birthday,
The cousins happy to be with their peeps.
Hooping, footballing, Waas in her flipflops,
Schooling the boys with her jump shot,
Hauling down touchdown passes,
But that girl’s got some game,
No matter whatever it is we play,
How did she manage to get that way?
The boys lumber along, just need a nudge,
Azh, you own the paint, that’s all you,
Ian, just shoot when you get open,
Calm down, don’t sweat the points,
Just have fun, who cares who wins?
So we strolled down to the school,
Avon-something-or-other Hills,
Rolled through the new subdivision,
Shades of Sterling Hts. all over,
Twenty years past my own teen years.
My nephews/Ian, Azhebek and Waasnode,
Sixteen, thirteen and ten,
My kids Zhaawosh and Waawaas,
Fourteen and twelve respectively,
Where has the time gone,
How did they all get so old?
My cuz Gezhik and I leading the way,
Reminiscing as we went,
This game or that game,
Do you remember when,
that pow wow in Toronto,
when we went to Wikmemikong.
Gezh, you shoulda finished school,
Shoulda transferred to E.L.,
Moved out to Hazlett or wherever,
But I got my own list too,
Shoulda, coulda, woulda,
So much time just flew by.
Little Thunderbolt stayed behind,
Ewaseset-Nodin hanging with auntie,
Still only four years old,
A chip off the old block,
I’m gonna be in so much s@#%,
If that boy pulls half the stuff I did.
He’s waiting for some birthday cake,
Wants some of them giveways,
We all converged to help celebrate,
My nephew Ian’s sixteenth birthday,
The cousins happy to be with their peeps.
Hooping, footballing, Waas in her flipflops,
Schooling the boys with her jump shot,
Hauling down touchdown passes,
But that girl’s got some game,
No matter whatever it is we play,
How did she manage to get that way?
The boys lumber along, just need a nudge,
Azh, you own the paint, that’s all you,
Ian, just shoot when you get open,
Calm down, don’t sweat the points,
Just have fun, who cares who wins?
6.25.2007
quicksand
Standing on quicksand,
Uneasy/queasy/sinking feeling,
Try not to move/try not to panic,
Breathe in/breath out.
Every time I turn my head,
Feels like I’m gonna puke,
Focus/focus/right now,
Grab on to something real.
Mental quicksand/sinking,
Sinking thoughts/sinking feeling,
Nothing to grab/nothing to do,
Can’t breathe/can’t move.
Rusty-is this how you felt,
Who do you trust/what do you do,
Is this how it was that singular night,
Up on the bridge/overlooking the river.
I was so pissed at you,
So pissed for the kids,
So pissed for your mom,
How you’ve been missed.
So flipping angry all over again,
When I heard what Charlie did,
Followed dad’s example,
What the hell could be so damn serious?
Reality melts away oozing,
Sickly sweet/nauseatingly sweet,
Slides off the face/slides off my mind,
Like that day that Uncle D passed away.
Black asphalt underfoot,
As I walked through the parking lot,
Humid/sticky air/sweaty armpits,
Stomach doing flips and somersaults.
Walking to the funeral home,
Gaunt/teary-eyed faces,
Aunts and uncles and cousins,
That I barely recognized.
This one and that one half-stoned,
Maybe that’s how they deal,
Maybe that’s how they survive,
Numb themselves so they don’t feel.
Rusty, did your demons overtake you,
Did your fears and hallucinations win,
Maybe I see/maybe I understand,
But I still don’t forgive you.
Heart-broken used cuckolded man,
What could possibly be worse,
What could possibly make you stay,
Maybe your kids/maybe your mom.
Paranoia destroyed you,
Paranoia is stalking me,
But I’m gonna stay and fight,
Gonna stick around just out of spite.
You really showed her,
Whatever the hell her name is,
Can’t even remember anymore,
Turns out you just paved the way.
Jekyll and Hyde personality,
Laughing and joking but hiding,
Thinly veiled anger and pain,
Snap/snap/snapping away.
Went to visit and see the kids,
Newly abandoned by wife number one,
Happy to angry in 6 seconds flat,
Biting off heads and façade melted.
In that moment I saw myself,
Reminded me of my dad,
All our uncles and aunts,
Family legacy writ on your face.
So here I am detoxed,
Clean and sober first time,
In I don’t know how long,
Pursued by my demons again.
Free and clear of my meds,
Forgot who I’m supposed to be,
Now I remember/how ironic,
I was running from me.
Buckle your seat belts kids,
Its gonna be a rough ride,
Your moodiness plus mine,
We’ll do the best we can.
Can’t trust anyone else,
No more chemical-induced cool,
This is who I am/this is us,
No more pharmaceutical crutches.
No one said life was going to be easy,
Never expected the everyday to be so hard,
Wake up/show up/do what you must,
Live a life/blaze your trail/return to dust.
That is all there is/all that is asked,
Just living your life and loving life,
As it turns out/this is the toughest task,
Head in quicksand/feet in the clouds.
Uneasy/queasy/sinking feeling,
Try not to move/try not to panic,
Breathe in/breath out.
Every time I turn my head,
Feels like I’m gonna puke,
Focus/focus/right now,
Grab on to something real.
Mental quicksand/sinking,
Sinking thoughts/sinking feeling,
Nothing to grab/nothing to do,
Can’t breathe/can’t move.
Rusty-is this how you felt,
Who do you trust/what do you do,
Is this how it was that singular night,
Up on the bridge/overlooking the river.
I was so pissed at you,
So pissed for the kids,
So pissed for your mom,
How you’ve been missed.
So flipping angry all over again,
When I heard what Charlie did,
Followed dad’s example,
What the hell could be so damn serious?
Reality melts away oozing,
Sickly sweet/nauseatingly sweet,
Slides off the face/slides off my mind,
Like that day that Uncle D passed away.
Black asphalt underfoot,
As I walked through the parking lot,
Humid/sticky air/sweaty armpits,
Stomach doing flips and somersaults.
Walking to the funeral home,
Gaunt/teary-eyed faces,
Aunts and uncles and cousins,
That I barely recognized.
This one and that one half-stoned,
Maybe that’s how they deal,
Maybe that’s how they survive,
Numb themselves so they don’t feel.
Rusty, did your demons overtake you,
Did your fears and hallucinations win,
Maybe I see/maybe I understand,
But I still don’t forgive you.
Heart-broken used cuckolded man,
What could possibly be worse,
What could possibly make you stay,
Maybe your kids/maybe your mom.
Paranoia destroyed you,
Paranoia is stalking me,
But I’m gonna stay and fight,
Gonna stick around just out of spite.
You really showed her,
Whatever the hell her name is,
Can’t even remember anymore,
Turns out you just paved the way.
Jekyll and Hyde personality,
Laughing and joking but hiding,
Thinly veiled anger and pain,
Snap/snap/snapping away.
Went to visit and see the kids,
Newly abandoned by wife number one,
Happy to angry in 6 seconds flat,
Biting off heads and façade melted.
In that moment I saw myself,
Reminded me of my dad,
All our uncles and aunts,
Family legacy writ on your face.
So here I am detoxed,
Clean and sober first time,
In I don’t know how long,
Pursued by my demons again.
Free and clear of my meds,
Forgot who I’m supposed to be,
Now I remember/how ironic,
I was running from me.
Buckle your seat belts kids,
Its gonna be a rough ride,
Your moodiness plus mine,
We’ll do the best we can.
Can’t trust anyone else,
No more chemical-induced cool,
This is who I am/this is us,
No more pharmaceutical crutches.
No one said life was going to be easy,
Never expected the everyday to be so hard,
Wake up/show up/do what you must,
Live a life/blaze your trail/return to dust.
That is all there is/all that is asked,
Just living your life and loving life,
As it turns out/this is the toughest task,
Head in quicksand/feet in the clouds.
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