Plain and Simple

What choice
really
but to tell our stories
in a cruder form

politeness
is just an alibi
for those who’ve never
entered a store
without
shirt and shoes
and being told
“no service”
grab what they came for
anyway
and fist their money
down onto the counter

they walk up the highway
in the rain
back to a trailer
full of dust and bone
and no man
is alone
I think
it’s a lie that makes us beautiful
anyway

if you knew the whole story
you’d not bitch so much about the mud
that people track in

we’ve all been caught out in it
not everyone makes it
I hear that a lot
when someone you love is on fire
with pain
or meth or abandon
or all of the above

how can you not try hard
to see people for what they are

just people
plain and simple.

The Year of Un-Magical Thinking

Tell me, again
the one about
all things lost

about how you crossed the border
with one shoe missing
eyes on the path that the moon laid out

not missing
you say
just misplaced

there are worse scenarios than going it alone

like not remembering why you had to
and returning to it
by accident
sometimes

it is important to not resist the fall
you have to fall right into it

I forget who said what
when it really matters
it only matters that you remember this;
none are so far gone that they cannot return

and to what are we returning, now?

we are not
all the time
singing

we cross the restricted field
in an abundance of darkness
the light from the highway
pulling us deeper
North

who knows
what wild kindness grows here
underneath the foot of the trail
is the place

here,
you belong
maybe
here
for a night
or more

a wall, at least, will hold you up
when no one and nothing else can

it’s a long story
but it’s ours
and worth telling.