Home in the Trees

a song in the key of G

forces of nature that harbor her bright

come in to dance for this Muse's delight

motions engraving in soft lumber bands

fortunes remaining inside of her hands

now i sleep on her once bended knees

and she makes up our home in the trees

a train from Chicago through fields blooming green

bringing the night glow and red back to me

dreaming of farmlands—a golden wheat bed

smooth as my shoulder where she rests her head

and i think of her kissing the breeze

as she climbs to our home in the trees

drive home down M-10, she smiles in the lanes

basking in glories of our grayscale plains

raise up our glass to whatever we are—

more than the glances we made at the bar

now her hands are a beacon for me

while her arms take me home to the trees

Detroit Princess

a song in the key of E

the littleness of your black dress

shows me nothing but the crest

from your smile and rosy buds

of sumac lips

your shoulders pulled so taught in style

are deadly curves that make me smile

through the glass of gin i sip

while i scope your hips

your blonde hair on The Detroit Princess

sitting like a timid mistress

cowering by the heating vent

as it waits for more

the moonlight up behind the clouds

is glistening so up and proud

the moonbeams pouring from your eyes

fill my pours

i'm crazy but i can't complain

the beauty of the midnight wains

it's for you

the rainwater goes down the drain,

the thunder rolls, the angels frame

the sweet truth

though centuries of hurried waiting

finally gone contemplating

wond'ring if i'd grab your hand

you simply laughed

drove you home, you said before

you missed the lights on 94

the halo for your tired head

was taken back

the elements of sunny days

just threw all the cares away

drove to Lansing, who can say

if you thought of me

the carousel of tired eyes

left me with not great surprise

the telephone is not my friend

when i cannot sleep

a quarry for the crushed concrete

undeserved but very sweet

to nestle you

the drive home on the city streets

reminiscent of the feats

we wandered through

the hushness of the storm is tired

miles apart, our mouths are wired

to piano keys we know that we both

cannot play

the grimly sickled Detroit weeds

make me weezy, make me sneeze

make me wonder simply why

i miss your face

well on your way across the state

remember me; the way i made

you a rhythm for you feet:

i can't escape

The Right Way to Paradise

a song

the gray of the skyline

the smoke stacks in the night

the orange Woodward street lights keep me still

my drive home down Russell

befriends me; the bustle

of the 94 hustle that always kills

to drink from the River

came make a boy shiver—

the moon in a sliver rises high

on M-10, it's gorgeous

the bridges are for us—

the highways are porous at night

that old Detroit fire

the light-up desire

that douses the pyre for the dead

the right way to paradise

is right before our eyes

the winter supplies us with beds

to sleep

to dream

the smell of the Roseville Plant

the steam from the Griswald vents

so roughly circumvents the road

when i moved from Adrian

my car wheels were born again—

baptized in oil and cologne

when we look in hindsight

we'll think of the break lights

born right outside of where we live

kids play in the road

the Toyota lights glow—

but no one who knows will forgive

that old Detroit fire

the light-up desire

that douses the pyre for the dead

the right way to paradise

is right before our eyes

the winter supplies us with beds

to sleep

to dream

the milk from I-75

keeps all of us alive

the night is desire left to breathe

the black pothole coverings

is not a dark bloodening;

is all for a glowing for the free

To Guess; To Hope

a song

the smoke rings come up 'round my fingers and i

take another glass of bourbon before i go to bed

the raindrops keep rhythms for Ann Arbor's night

a deafening thump for each thought in my head

as i treat my displacement with curious songs

found an angel who lives a thousand miles east

but i cannot wait for her words for so long:

she wrote me in Harlem and she hugged me in Queens

there's no way to survive staring her pictures

when i think of her smile with its pearly gapped teeth

and her hair rough as wool; her eyes deep as Christmas—

the way they and entrance and they hypnotize me

give me I-80

give me 95

i'll drive to her with the radio on all night

twelve hundred miles

through rain and the fields

to guess what she's thinking; to hope for how she might feel

a suburban prison makes a new place to die

for the young and the restless, the ones who still dream

the hot New York summers make no one deny

how much holding someone creates barrels of steam

but i would still hold her if she led the way

through those Detroit winters that shiver and break

to the point of our demise, the grayest of grays

but still i will keep her and the snowfall at bay

there's no way to confront when you know she's so bold

when you see her lost pictures when alone in the night

the piles of loneliness open my eyes

but it's her who embraced me with her hearted demise

give me I-80

give me 95

i'll drive to her with the radio on all night

twelve hundred miles

through rain and the fields

to guess what she's thinking; to hope for how she might feel

Howling Dogs

a song in the key of F#

howling dogs

in the road

sniffing fog

gnawing bones

broken jaws

cold wet nose

cracked dry claws

on their toes

howling dogs

see through time

break the moon—

yours and mine

lie in grass

Deerfield Road

where's their home?

no one knows

howling dogs

have no home

eat the grass

throw it up

tracing teeth

to the bone

for howling dogs

in the road