LONG SAD THOUGHTS OF HOME
Long sad thoughts of home.
Hello is blue.
Farewell shifts toward the infra-red.
Do the stars ever feel
they don’t know where they belong anymore?
I’m a direction looking for a compass.
I’m a map of the rain.
None of my constellations
know how to connect the dots
into the improbable myths of my longing
I tell to the blind in braille
wishing they had eyes
instead of these square skulls of dice
with empty eye-sockets
that stare back at me like black holes.
I try to shine
but I don’t know where the light goes
and I feel the sky is always disappointed.
My face ages like a stamp on a loveletter without a return address.
My heart is a bell that keeps on tolling away
like a labour of sadness
that doesn’t know what else to say
before the mute stark brutal truth of human suffering
waiting for a mouth like a wounded abyss to scream.
My life has always been the exception
of the dream I thought I was having at the time.
The one in which I seek and do not find.
I’m an exile when I’m romantic.
I’m an exclusion when I’m not.
I’ve never met anyone who wasn’t unique
but people en masse are obvious
and I do not seek what they seek
though that makes me feel arrogant.
Everything’s got to be out in the open and on the level
often enough not to go straight to hell
like a plumb-line to the devil
at the bottom of a dry well
that gave up crying years ago
when damnation turned into indifference.
I take everything to heart.
I don’t miss a detail.
I think I’m too smart
to be taken in again
by the blameless orphans
the night left on the stairs of my homelessness
but I’ve always let compassion make a fool of me
when occasion arises
even though I’ve long felt
the heart of the human condition is our helplessness.
It’s one thing to lament the state of people’s souls
but it’s a whole other universe
an heretical shape of space
on the other side of your eyes
to feel sorry for what happens to their bodies
as if matter and mind were just two modes of roadkill.
Frogs in the rain on a highway
in high and low beam
and ghosts of water turning into fog
inverted clouds of unknowing
with more corpses in them
like crushed popcorn than mystics
or T-Tauri stars breaking into light
that doesn’t care which side of the blind it shines on.
I may well be just a bag of water
chemicals with glands
a sky-minded telescope with nine apertures in it
scanning the heavens for any sign of divine intelligence
that wasn’t as alien to me
as I am to most of you
and I still don’t know why
I am the way I am
and there isn’t a lie
I’ve been able to make fit me like skin
I don’t eventually outgrow like a phase of the moon
when she’s looking the other way
and it’s a curse to try to prove what you imagined
before you began to speak
and I still don’t know what it is I truly seek
or if I’m just looking for the hell of it
but I’ve always hoped somehow
without my even knowing
whatever I saw along the wayless way
as I left the solar system
like a comet with a long track record
of making bad things come true
was a measure of healing
was an antidote
that could be extracted from the feeling I have
whenever I consider what’s up ahead for all of us
like salmon leaping upstream
against the flow of things
back to our mysterious origins
to propogate ourselves among the dead
after all these long far gone years at sea
I followed the sirens who sang to me like rocks
thinking they were muses
I just couldn’t live without.
Now I think of death as a galaxy
that has crossed over its own event horizon
beyond the speed of light
that puts it out of sight of the rest of us
but doesn’t notice the slightest bit of difference
when it disappears like a wave into water
as if nothing had changed.
I am so far from home
I am remembering my way forward like a prophecy
of things to come
that have already happened
and there’s nothing in my past
that doesn’t lie before me like the future.
There’s no coming or going in now.
And when I take off all these masks of space and time
like a windblown orchard by the sea
and reveal there was never anyone there behind them
they could hide from me
I return to a town
that has followed me for years
like a complete stranger
and everybody recognizes me somehow.