radius

the radius is burning and it’s
turning inward
I’m proud to be the child I’ve become
in a world full of guns

cause inside every answer
is the question again
you think that’d give me rest
but instead
I make arrests in my head

the state’s mistake
was breaking figure eights
we make love
but they build interstates
come and join the curve
come and join the curve
silence is a verb
silence is…

I loved someone as honestly
as I thought I could
drew her pictures of my bones
so she’d knew where I stood

and what the stranger said
has made the fracture spread
the infinite architecture of a
single thread

the state’s mistake
was breaking figure eights
we make love
but they build interstates
come and join the curve
come and join the curve
silence is a verb
silence is…

x-mas

the mirror never lies
not like my eyes
but the irony is I still believe
and shame never sang
it only mumbled
and the still small voice
was somehow muffled
and the stranger has a plan
that’s segregation
demands on the memory
of more important things like
the market shares he bought and
the affair he sought and
how can he bear christmas for one more year

well we cry for justice
and beg mercy

we have been justified
we have been sterilized
we have been given rights
we have been lied to

but we cry for justice
and beg mercy
the mirror never lies

before u call

I could lie with you
forget the world
forget my name
get fired from my job
your voice is all I see
your face is all I hear
my senses are confused
my hair is full of tears
once again I find
I am waiting

I know myself so well
I build you up and tear you down
before you even call
so if I’m awkward on the phone
if I throw too much your way
I hope you’ll laugh it off
I hope that you will stay
I tell you once again
I am crazy

I think that you’ll come through
I trust you more than I can say
though I can not tell you why
cause I’ve been wrong before
I’ve thrown the dice too fast
I’ve set the stakes too high
and built my walls of glass
you can see me now
I am naked

skin

you get yourself up
early in the morning
repeat the mantra
this could be your glory
grab your keys and coffee
head for the door
right foot down and
you’re out on the road
left turn, stop
right turn, stop
the whole damn world
is watching the cops
watch you
and what can you do
and where can you even go
and all you realize
you’ll do the same thing tomorrow

it’s all about the skin
the skin that it’s in
taking it down
like a metaphor
dying on the floor
kicking it tight
because the alphabet is a
traffic light

(what’s in your… lunch bag?
life raft?
casket?)

not me

who dropped the needle
on the human record
and who was so brilliant
they saw as an infant
to spin it all backwards
it’s not me

who left their blood
on the steps of tiannanmen
the same children
put the stitches in my shoes

who stood up and screamed
at the cops and their dreams
unafraid of what they’d lose
it’s not me

who takes their compassion
beyond just reaction
to movement on ground
who’s going to London
to look for a lover who will
burn his thresholds down
it’s not me

teaching culture

the pattern never changes
consider yourself
you’re in love with the phase
where the muse is making
ugly faces
and you know you irritate her
and you know you’re scared
but you still come back
to where circles are squares
and nothing is sacred

and what you do
is what they do
and what you hate
is what they do
and what you do

impersonating someone
who’s making fun of you
beat them to punch
beat them over the head by forcing the issue
and you know you irritate them
and you keep them scared
by offering comfort of status quo
who knows what the hell is out there

sitting in the park
teaching culture
to a stranger
on a cold day
what will we do now
DC has frozen over
they’re gonna cash in all those promises
the pattern never changes

airplane

oh god, can you help me
the air is getting thin
can feel it like paper
on my floating skin
and nothing in my pockets will last

please can you stop the sound
of falling fifty meters a second down
pain killers, pain relievers
is blood flow with
emergency exits

I am falling out of the door

biafra

how many critics do you know
that would know what to do if life
gave them a chance to be something other
than a critic?
how many games can you play
before you become your own chess pieces?
how many screams does it take to get
to the center of your soul?
how many queers will it take to
unscrew this political light bulb?

well I hope
doesn’t mean a thing

how can you say you’re here,
part of the feast and not partaking?
look down around your neck
and see the napkin tucked in
when do you chase your dreams
and when do they turn and chase you?
if you were the one
calling the shots
what’s the first thing that you would do?

well I hope
doesn’t mean a thing

what do you have against seeing
two sides of an argument?
what are you holding onto
when you keep those thoughts in your head?
it’s not about building new roads
this time
it’s not about building new roads anymore
it’s time to fill in the old holes

and I hope
doesn’t mean a thing

projector

oh god,
what is it this time?
another thing
I can’t get off my mind
I know that in the scheme of things
it’s not quite what it seems
but sometimes I just
forget to breathe

dear god,
I know you’re watching
I can feel her everytime
I stop all this incessant talking
and even tough I know
that I don’t have much to say
I can’t help but open my mouth
and let it fly out anyway
cause sometimes I just
forget to pray

and if my heart
was a projector I would
shine it on the wall
read it all,
letter for letter
or just tilt back and
make it ten feet tall

so dave,
what is it this time?
did someone remind you
of some form of early crime?
and did you take that old film
from off that dusty shelf
reel it up reel to reel
and reel out onto everyone else?
sometimes I just
forget myself

but what if no one came
to watch it play
is the price so high
no one would pay
you say there’s something good
on HBO
maybe this time
I’ll just stay home

breath to be

where were you the night we
dropped the atom bomb?
I chased a paper tiger through
my own private saigon
time spent collecting evidence
to one day make me strong

but now I feel it on me
like a breeze
and I am waiting to be
on my knees
and I am sitting here
holding
my breath to be

I gotta relax cause she offered me
the length of her arm
and I listened to the dream she had
and I showed her my scars
cause we carry ourselves
like we’re stamped passports
(should I tell the one about the time…)
that I scuffed my hightop sneakers
on the temple floor

but now I feel it on me
like a breeze
and I am waiting to be there
on my knees
sitting in the temple
holding my breath to be

moment to moment, all
just components in a life of pictures
in an airport in san fransisco
I read the following words,
“when we breathe, we realize that
life is impermanence”
and the lesson I heard
is that we can see truth
in the rest between words

hide

you
lead me to believe that
you
wear your heart on your sleeve
but you are only brave
sometimes
and you can be
so purposefully blind
and that’s nothing I can count on

I
love being alone
and I made
a home of my own
but I still need to be seen
and I
don’t know where you’ve been
and that’s nothing I can count on

you
you’re like jekyll and hyde
and I don’t know
which is the disguise
cause you
can be generous and warm
and you can leave
me out in the storm
and that’s nothing I can count on

I
know you are trying
but sometimes it feels
like you’re lying, but
I will
keep loving you imperfectly
if you will
keep speaking your truth to me
and that’s something we can count on



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