there is a place

there is a place in every story and every song
they go there and we go there so that time will stand still
like the fury of an angry child -- stalled
out of steam, out of breath -- stalled
waterfalled stalled since the beginning and the end
the place is behind the frozen wall of ice
the place is the river, the whole river
which is moving, but isn't going anywhere
we have all dreamed it and they have all seen it
every story and every song rebounds off the walls
echoing into each other like the river, the whole river
which is completely silent, completely empty -- stalled

i'm rambling.

if you should ever lose yourself
in a quandary of existential proportions
if you ever fill yourself
with self-loathing and self-doubt
if you ever wreck yourself
over the loneliness, pain, and isolation
of extant meaningless existence

find yourself.
going there.
but never get there.
only reach the shore.

when you ain't got nothin'

when you ain't got nothin'
you got nothin' to lose
said dusty old recordplayer
but what does recordplayer know?
recordplayer's got an easy time of it
sit tight, get plugged in, spin
needle the grooves, feed the groove
i'm not listening to you, recordplayer
when you ain't never known nothin'
you ain't got nothin' to say
but all the words of others
that you won't ever understand

everything in my head at once

good god, y'all
war -- huh!
what is it good for?
asked the cleaning lady
sunburned like hell
hashbrowns, powerade
twice a day, rinse off
the music's loud
in your room
turn it down
for us to figure out
on the bad luck train
sleeping sleeping sleeping
she likes traveling
when i'm with her
don't be that guy
or she will kick your ass
not addicted to cloves yet
one more, one more, one more
paper tiger -- no, airplane
that wasn't a song!
need a new pillow
pillowcased backpack
deep bad conversation dish
always breaking rules
peace, calm, happiness
laughter, laughter, laughter
sake, sake, sake
it's the pitchfork that builds
builds the hay into a haystack
that's chicago! that's what we do!
we keep it local and
invite the rest of the world!
the airtrain has no wheels
because it's air... train.
twenty-one years old
a twenty-one-year-old
man man ha ha man, man!
fuze has heroin in it
drunk and stoned
fuck yo la tengo
fuck bush, bleeding heads
they don't look like pharmacists
there's a lot of hair on stage
walking from union park to the red line
on the lake, over the lake
capone's blue light
chopping peppers, garlic, stirring
mozzarella was my idea
gothic american hopper edward
i was a falling nighthawk once, but
these milk jugs are heavy
i'll never make it home
well-hung stable boy!
i was meant for the stage
thank you so much for everything
falling asleep and growing up
under the sun, white sheet summer
stolen kisses on the run
i can still feel your head on my shoulder
everything hits at once
you forgot your tropical coconut body wash