Falling Asleep to 1990’s marketing Extravaganza Dick Tracy

The plot isn’t much to speak of
Scattered and hard to follow, but the colorful and garish
Sets, they just soothe the edges of my soul
Eyes adjusting to the darkness ahead of rest

I might always live like
A faceless wraith stalking my way
Through the avenues and alleyways
And haunted spots of anytown, USA

I liked that about the movie
How those obviously painted hulking
Concrete and steel monstrosities
Static and frozen, yet still somehow in motion

Could be a metaphor for the underbelly
Of any city, the concrete canyons of New York
The cold labyrinthine streets
Carving the wastes of Chicago

Okay, those are actually the only
Two cities that come to mind
When I think about just where
“The City” might have been based on

Not nearly enough sunshine
For the soulless sun soaked streets of LA
But I’ve always been such a sucker
For a hardboiled detective anyway

I love the two-dimensional villains
Out to get theirs at any cost
All physically deformed and amoral
Impeccably dressed in tailored suits all the same

After a day’s worth of eating shit and air pollution
Cutting two wheels across cold pavement
For a hundred bucks and some exercise
Knees that creak and wrists that ache

I think I understand
Just how busted hands
Could reach for a gun
Trading the violence wrought

On aging bones
Through toil and exhaustion
At the end of every workday
For the violence of

Striking out into the cold
Of this heartless world
To take what’s rightfully yours
Instead of what those hogs at the top say you deserve

So meet me tonight at the docks
Underneath a yellow moon peering
Indifferently though the smog
Down at streets seeped in soul and sorrow below

I’m a sultry songstress
Bruised but unbroken, just like you
Always on the same side
With a loaded .45

Pressed against my thigh
Sticking to circles of streetlight
Until the hour arrives
To slink back into the shadows

Of The City and strike
Out at its black heart
Because in this life
There are hard truths they teach us

Before we can even grow
First and foremost
We come to know
That only suckers fight fair

Falling Asleep to 1990’s marketing Extravaganza Dick Tracy

Poem written about a recurring dream.

I hope somewhere you know
How my lips
Still curl into a snarl
All jagged teeth, and dripping venom
At the sight of one who did you so wrong

Yes, the years lost
To silence and bad blood
Have now grown long
With the vastness and sorrow
Of our dead and buried time
Echoing through the dark
And wounded corners of our minds

Walls of silence
And monuments to regret
Built between you and I
Like how sometimes at night
In that house, behind closed doors
I could hear you cry

Or how I described life in the aftermath
And the loss we forged
And the hacking of so many cords
Like waking up with a goddamn kidney stone
Every day for an entire year of my life

And you remember those
Don’t you, my love?
With me crying on the bathroom floor
And writhing in pain
Pissing blood and aching for days

You were there too
Calm and steady
Lying in that grimy bed
Right next to me
Waiting for the painkillers to kick in
And the coming of restless sleep

I still tell the story of that time
Every once and a while
I hope somewhere you know
How when I tell it, I smile
I can never tell it without laughing

“Yeah, you should have seen
The way zie glared at the nurse
When she had the goddamn nerve
To make fun of me for being in pain.
You know them
You know the face they make”

“We all know how wimpy men can be about pain
Don’t we, dear?”
And you glaring and deadpan
“Are we quite finished here?”

Three years, and 2,675 miles
And I wouldn’t even know what to say
If we were ever to meet
In some warm and longing place
In the land beneath the fathomless deep
And misplaced hate
We held for so long

I dream that dream sometimes
I doubt you know
It’s the same scene night after night
You and I
Living some less ruined lives
Meeting in warmer times
With open arms and loving eyes

I’ll say how I loved you
Deeper than blood
Like I loved few before
And in the years that went by
The ache of that loss
Has yet to subside

I’ll say how I hope you finally
Got yourself a good night’s rest
And how I hope your battered body
Finally found a way to be on the mend
I hope somewhere your fingers
Are picking at tender banjo strings
I hope all your bad dreams don’t linger
And I hope your life is filled with beautiful things

I may be feeling all alone out here
Living like an exile
Wandering through the fog
Or a modern day Flying Dutchman
Forever lost
But I’m lifetimes away from
Who I was back
When you and I met for the first time
And how lucky am I for that?

I hope it’s warm where you are
And I hope you’re not alone
I hope wherever the wind takes you
You always find your way safely home

I said it once
Tonight I’ll say it one more time
I can still see the way
Your awkward teeth show when you smile
And I can still hear the sound you make
When you laugh
With our hearts as our shields
And our lights that never went out
But never quite enough
We move on and on

Give holy thanks
To the bliss of busted hearts
And the strength to walk the other way

Poem written about a recurring dream.