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We have to entertain our parents, but on the other side of the room it looks like someone in the hammock got kicked out of graduate school. He’s selling California stuff, he says he’s installing a pool. He says he’s almost made enough, he says he’ll invite all of us, but do you know it’s Mother’s Day? To some of us it doesn’t apply, renegades, brushing off the brunches like flies.
We just have to find a way to not stare disappointed at the wall, so at some point we can say, I need nothing. I need nothing. I need nothing at all.
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2. |
Summer Kids
04:12
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When she asked him what he meant, it’s as if someone insisted on a full statement of purpose. How can he explain, already feeling kind of nervous? When the words finally came, he was sounding like a tourist. They did the shimmy-round, they did the loop-the-loop. There were adjectives and nouns, but there was no sense to it. And the sun sliding down, shadows creeping cross the ground: The summer kids knew it, but they weren’t about to tell you what they knew.
Sense? There is no sense. I’ll gladly be another victim of the grievously attractive. I saw one, she was jumping on a mattress. When the cops said stop, she said she still needed the practice. She did the shimmy-round, she did the Let’s Get to It. The summer kids backed her up with their sweet music, and the sun sliding down, shadows creeping cross the ground: The summer kids knew it, there was nothing more beautiful than you.
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3. |
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On that electric Saturday, conditions perfect for escaping: your grandma’s Chevrolet without permission or regret. We released the brake and rolled it silent down the driveway, and made ourselves believe we’d never see this place again.
Turned the keys to see the dashboard light up as if we deserved it, the heater starts to blow warm on our February hands. We detoured through the streets that were a demolition derby, and when we nosed into that ditch, we abandoned ship and ran.
I was fifteen, I was drunk on the cold air that filled my lungs. I swallowed it in mighty gulps, still didn’t feel like near enough. I pulled you in, I felt your lips soft on my neck, and when we kissed, once adrift and now ashore: We kissed again, then ran some more.
I’ve heard about the birds and bees, the dogs and the dog catchers. Which ones do we become as we all tumble through our days? Do we land on what is sweet or do we try and bite the bastards? Now that we are free it seems they want us put away.
And I think about my darling and I think about the darkness. I think about the night the light from us alone did shine, running together in the gravel highway margins, wondering if ever I would feel half as alive.
I was fifteen, I was drunk on the cold air that filled my lungs. I swallowed it in mighty gulps, still didn’t feel like near enough. I pulled you in, I felt your lips soft on my neck, and when we kissed, once adrift and now ashore: We kissed again, then ran some more.
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4. |
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He met her in a very ordinary way: He liked her pictures and the way she turned a phrase. He crafted his approach, hit the button and just hoped, then suffered hearing nothing for a day. In time she wrote to say he seemed okay.
They had an absolutely ordinary date. He had three brews and she had two and then he paid. He walked her to the train, she said, “We should do it again.” She turned to go and then he called out, “Hey. Why don’t we do it again right away?”
We’ll walk to the docks, where the river shimmers like a scimitar. I’ll work up the nerve to tell you just how beautiful you are.
She said she had to get up early the next day. She’d be in touch, and thanks so much, but now it’s late. She went down the stairs; he thought he’d get some air and walked out to the river anyway. It glistened as he pictured all the same, flowed to the ocean in its ordinary way.
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5. |
To See Things Begin
03:55
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I’m just sitting on the sofa, baby, like I got nothing to do. But I’m waiting for you to come over and to run my hands all over you. It’s too early to confide. Just slide over to my side. Ooh, how I love to see things begin. Ooh, knock on my door, baby, how I love to let you in.
So I ushered her into my kitchen. I encouraged her to take off her shoes. Before I could hustle her with my fictions, she urged me to show her the other room. We were off like a big gun had us shot into the sky. We both thought we had found someone. To our shock, we both were right.
And I don’t know about the places you’ve been to, and I can’t recall the names of all who you love. But I think I like what I’m getting into. I think I’d like to hit the lights and let the night do all it’s capable of. We were off like a big gun had us shot into the sky. We both thought we had found someone. To our shock, we both were right.
Ooh, how I love to see things begin. Ooh, knock on my door, baby, how I love to let you in.
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6. |
Write Me a Caption
04:13
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When I woke, I still was dressed. Every light in the place was ablaze at four a.m. Took a second to remember where I am. Took a second to remember that I don’t believe I’ll ever see you again.
Now I see you in your day as you proceed to the magazine, meeting with the team that assures you that it matters what you say. Just keep it simple and direct. The less you write, the more I try. The more I try, I realize, just gets me less and less respect.
Write me a caption like the ones you’re famous for, that they pay you more to write than I’ll ever see in my life. Put on your caption cap and write to fit. Are you up to it? Or did you never even know that much to write?
Oh, so many regrets: that we ever met, that I can’t forget, that for some dumb reason I don’t seem finished yet. I guess I did my best. I guess I got about as close as anyone can hope to get.
Write me a caption like the ones you’re famous for, that they pay you more to write than I’ll ever see in my life. Put on your caption cap and write to fit. Are you up to it? Or did you never even know that much to write?
Disappointed man walks down the stairs for the last time: He thought there was something there. He is wrong again. Man, 37, wonders if he’ll ever catch a break. Thinks he’s on the make, but all he makes is mistakes . . . like you.
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7. |
Your Shoes Are Stupid
02:45
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Your shoes are pointed, with four-inch heels to keep you on your toes so you can seem a little tougher to the people you don’t know. Your eyes elusive behind aviators, talking on the phone. Your shoes are stupid ’cause they’ll take you but won’t tell you where to go.
Your shoes sit neatly by the doorway on a gorgeous Saturday. You are barefoot with the broker you chose for a fiancé. And for the rock you got, you won’t ask why he’s hardly ever home. Your shoes are stupid ’cause they’ll take you but won’t tell you where to go.
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8. |
And We Were Happy
01:23
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The sky was blue, the earth was green, the moon was new, and you were happy. The night, you knew, could be a dream that swallows you, and you were happy. I’ll light the route wherever it leads. I’ll follow you, and I’ll be happy. The sky was you, the earth was me, the moon was three, and we were happy.
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9. |
The Ten
03:27
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One morning while he still reclined between the snooze bar and the grind, he had a vision of a graph that marked how happy had been his past. And he decided that the Y would be divided 1 to 10, 1 being bummed and 10 as happy as a man could ever get. Don’t forget the chart goes on and on and on, the X line marks the day we’re on, and on into the future rolls to the beyond. And the 10 only represents how happy we thought we could get. When we approach it, then we see the ceiling lift eternally.
I reached the peak, I peeked, and the end was the beginning and the 10 was now the infinite. I saw the line, I saw it lied. I saw you and I were spinning in the light beyond the definitions.
So here we are and aren’t we starry-eyed, just wish I had control, wish I had the manual that told me all that was untold, like where to go and who to tell and who to tell to go to hell. Some won’t approve, some just confuse the lives of others with themselves. I hear them crying out beneath, I see them trying all the keys, I feel you riding next to me, and I see all the rest recede. And here we are, the car, the night, the headlights glowing on the road. These are the only things we know, then you turn up the radio.
I reached the peak, I peeked, and the end was the beginning and the 10 was now the infinite. I saw the line, I saw it lied. I saw you and I were spinning in the light beyond the definitions.
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10. |
They Kissed, They Kissed
03:30
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In a corner did they sit. They told no one who they were with. His eyes dropped to her fingertips; her nails were bitten to the quick. But when she smiled her face was lit with all he realized he had missed. So it seemed appropriate to raise their glasses to their lips.
One and two had barely hit; another round to make it stick. The third and fourth were innocent and slid into the fifth and sixth. With that it seems he did dismiss the wagon that had brought him in. So sad to be the man who isn’t living up to who he is.
Closing time was imminent. She gently set her hand on his, which stripped his last hope to resist. They kissed, they kissed.
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11. |
Blazin' in Princeton
02:31
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I remember I was maybe eight and my mom told me to wait out in the car. She put on the flashers and then she dashed across the lot to the Wawa. And just now I was sitting in that same parking lot, leaning into the windshield and listening to the rain. I was waiting for that water’s speech to murmur panegyrics to the pain of not having a thing to say. Blazin’ behind the library on a rainy day, flip through new arrivals at the Record Exchange. I’ll take my parking validation and I’ll see you at the Haven, come on. Blazin’ in Princeton.
I was walking in the graveyard squinting at the tombstones, trying to make out the names. I think I recognized a few for whom they said some Sunday I should pray. I guess that I messed up, I guess it’s anybody’s guess what respects to pay. I sat down on a bench to think about what it all meant and let the blame of not having a thing to say wash over me in the boneyard on a rainy day. Think I’ll flip through new arrivals at the Record Exchange. I’ll take my parking validation and I’ll see you at the Haven, come on. Blazin’ in Princeton.
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12. |
I'd Stay
03:18
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I have been telling everyone I know either me or this city has got to go. I talked so much about leaving this town, I gotta pack up my stuff just to back up my mouth. It’s so easy to say that I’m going away, to get reactions from those that I ought to embrace. I gave up my place, bought my ticket today, but if you told me no, just don’t, I’d stay.
What use is wisdom if it just makes you scared, what use is love if it can’t be declared? But I’m crazy about what is crazy about you. I just wish you were crazy enough to be too. It’s so easy to say that I’m going away, to get reactions from those that I ought to embrace. I gave up my place, bought my ticket today, but if you told me no, just don’t, I’d stay.
My reservation says seat 14D. I got a window, don’t know who’s next to me. But when I close my eyes at thirty-five thousand feet, I think it’s no secret who I wish it’d be.
Will you come visit me, will I come back? Come keep me company the night that I pack? Will you walk over, wave good-bye to my car? Just one last glimpse of how pretty you are. It’s so easy to say that I’m going away, to get reactions from those that I ought to embrace. I gave up my place, bought my ticket today, but if you told me no, just don’t, I’d stay.
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13. |
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The richest men in the world were saying nice things about the astronauts that day when we skipped section to watch your television set.
The richest men in the world were saying nice things about the astronauts with expressions of concession to one thing they’d never get.
The richest men in the world were saying nice things about the astronauts that night when we were freshmen, I remember, you forget.
The richest men in the world were saying nice things about the astronauts as they stared up to the heavens. I wish you the very best.
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14. |
Tell It to the Seasons
02:28
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We’d run from our troubles every day and we’d hole up in the endless, where we’d seek, in dreams, what made us afraid, the thunder and lightning in the gray. Just beyond the barbed-wire fences, we’d see the key that would open the gate.
Let them say all that they will or will not say, and I won’t hear it. Let them claim to know more than they can explain: I won’t believe it. Let them place their votes of confidence on those that they call savior. Let them play their songs, let them leave me alone. I will not waver.
I’ll be here where you had let me be, amid my personal repeating. History is to me what I tell myself. There’s got to be something stuck in me? Tell it to the seasons. I can feel the spring just moments away.
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Thunderegg San Francisco, California
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