the age of hopeless causes, without end

in the half-light of approaching snow

in the godlike silence of an

empty parking lot at the edge of some

anonymous upstate factory town

six vultures circling the february field

that runs down to the river

the ghosts of houses

still waiting to burn

takes a whole lot of pain to make the

days seem worthwhile but what

else do you have to look forward to?

monday morning and

some joni mitchell song in the

back of your mind

great men with mouths full of blood

because the theory is that

there can be no heroes

without victims

teenage girl stabbed once for every

wasted year of your sad little life

middle-aged life and what the fuck good

is a poem going to do her now?

what good is it going to do any of us?

we were like kids shooting dogs

we were too sick to see how

ignorant we really were

it was summer maybe or

the end of winter

dead trees and poisoned water

no kings no kingdoms but borders and

barbed wire in every direction

enemies that needed to be kept out

              that needed to be

crushed

and we were less than gods but

more than the men who had invented them

i was 24 and drunk in a stranger’s bed

you were 40 and always running

in the opposite direction

already felt like the asshole i knew i’d

become but was still thinking

about the possibility of salvation

had my 3rd eye painted in the

palm of my right hand

had the mantra memorized

create

evolve

destroy

and so i was like a

soldier shooting children

wanted nothing to do with that

grey area between slaughter and

victory and what do you think?

does love beat lust?

have we finally arrived at

the brighter shining future?

jump off the cliff on the

clearest day of the year and

tell me everything you see

like francis bacon, dreaming

wasn’t going to be one of those

fuckers hung up on time & space

wasn’t going to be bathed in the

blood of christ or blinded by the holy

light of some absolute god

paper said it was the last good year

but that seemed like a lie

sun felt too good for a lifetime of fear

and the gold was pure white light

running through my veins

was always cold in the house

so we lived in the forests

lived in the vast open fields of our minds

only wanted to be your favorite

poison and only wanted you to be

everything i’d ever wanted

only wanted more

and i wasn’t going to one of those

assholes strung out on pain and despair

the words of the prophet

were meaningless to me

the days were all delicate filigree,

all scrimshaw and lace and

when the cops shot that kid i was

asleep in your arms

when the pills are all gone

i stop looking in the mirror

i am tired of the

addict i’ve become

cowards, because

were we talking about the

age of magic?

first days of summer, i think,

and i was already frightened it was

passing me by

girl i had known 30 years earlier

called up to tell me she loved me

                      but she was stoned

could hear her kid

crying in the background

could feel the presence of

an indifferent god

a sharp blade sliding in

just behind my eyes

[what makes you happy?  your misery]

the suicide season again,

and all your fucked up lovers say

it’s the sunlight that ties this noose so tight

they say it’s the fading warmth of

a half-remembered past

that blurs the future to a dirty grey, and

what can you do but agree?

your father never liked you, sure

left nothing but the gift of self-hatred

when he walked away from the burning house

and how many years did you wait before

you went looking for him?

how easy do you think it was

for him to forget your name?

opened the door to his shithole apartment

with shaking hands, with a blank stare,

and told you he’d never had any kids

told you his wife disappeared

back before the war

made you start to doubt you’d

                         ever been born

my place on the map of nowhere

and i knew the guy, not the one who

died but the one who killed him, stupid little

fucker but mean, and everyone drunk in

a fight about nothing

blood smeared on chrome in the

back of the parking lot, and

i had to work the next morning

had to explain to my girlfriend about the

phone number she’d found in the

pocket of my jeans, had to find a place

to sleep, had to just finally grow up and

get away from all this shit

maybe pretend i was human for a change