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Come
Out of Your Mine, 1999
1.
INDEPENDENCE DAY
There’s a battleship parked in the river,
reenacting open doors, open arms, then open fire.
There are mushroom clouds and machine-gunned copters
descending in the snap crackle pop fizzle of the fireworks
as they blast into the night air breathed in by
innumerable passengers screaming “We Are Number
One.”
Independence Day, our freedom is won,
to choose our own way, when to go, what’s to come.
But with each tie we break, there is sacrifice.
How many lives will it take? How many loves just must
die?
There’s a man I just met; he hasn’t kissed
me yet.
He reminds me of someone else, only better.
But I’m made out of wax, so easy to impress.
Am I melting too fast, dripping into your lips?
Because all my heroes have turned human this year,
slinking ‘round pool tables, sinking into unfabled
stupors,
whispering in the night air or into some girl’s
hair:
“I Am Number One.”
There’s a battleship parked in the Charles River,
Shooting off fireworks that light up the world,
then fall in the water.
My love’s next to me, head full of the next century
and wondering whether there’ll be a wedding tomorrow.
And the secret smoke signals in the aftermath of gunpowder
seem the most significant indication of what’s to
come.
2. STRAWBERRIES
Walking the tightrope, now no consequences.
Walking the tightrope, numb and defenseless.
I knocked on your door, and you answered quite quickly,
Said I could not come in, but we could walk around the
garden together
Arm in arm, enjoying the weather, and inspecting the crops:
Greenbeans in profusion, long and straight,
burdening the vine like a weeping willow;
ripe red tomatoes, soft and sweet,
perched upon their furry stalk, begging you to pluck;
crisp cucumbers, proud bellpeppers
radiating eighteen shades of life.
Life, life, life, life, life, life, life, life flies.
One green plastic basket of extra large, extra sweet,
extra well-fed strawberries.
We ate them one by one, ‘til there was just one
left, the largest, sweetest, extra fancy.
Then we alternated bite by bite, ‘til it was all
gone. Then it was all gone.
Walking the tightrope, now no consequences.
Walking the tightrope, numb and defenseless.
Can you spare any change for me tonight?
I need something to eat, somewhere to sleep tonight.
I need something to hold, something to hold me tonight.
I need someone to love, someone to love me tonight.
Life, life, life, life, life, life, life, life flies.
Life, time, life, time, life, time, lifetime flies
Walking the tightrope.
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3.
JACKALS
Jackals hide behind handsome faces.
Dr. Jekyl & Mr. Hyde remind me, remind me.
In a bedroom of a brick and stucco house,
A girl in seersucker pants reached for a book
To pass the day away.
Not yet knowing the proper way to read, the girl
Took the tales as fact and cried all afternoon.
After dinner and after her daily bath,
Clean-skinned & damp-haired, she lay down to
bed
As the light went out.
Under an Amish quilt and inside her flannel pajamas,
The girl wrestled with troubled thoughts,
Troubled sleep, troubled dreams.
The elevator opens
On a white frost-bitten world.
I step out, and the doors slide closed,
Leaving me alone
With the only one
Who could hurt me.
Jackals hide behind handsome faces.
Dr. Jekyl & Mr. Hyde remind me, remind me.
Old Giapetto sold all his winter clothes
To buy books for his wooden son who lied, lied through
his nose.
And when the circus wagon came rollin’ through
the town,
The boy jumped aboard and left, not even a note.
In desperation over this disappearance, the old
man
With his arthritic hands tore down his house, plank
by plank,
And carried each one by one, down to the harbour,
Trading his shoes for some nails and a hammer to
build,
To build himself a boat.
(chorus)
1982 Mercedes blue and the rumbling sputter
of a diesel engine, and the gooseflesh returns.
Isn’t it a pity, isn’t it a shame we
can’t see ourselves
Inside this moving sedan; the windshield’s
too busy to reflect.
But the outside looks lovely and oh so tempting.
The light on the smokestacks & watertowers beckons
to me.
So hello, my newfound friend Disaster,
Come sit down at our roundtable, let us ask your
advice:
Should we bring on the accident?
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4.
SAVE ME
While I wait for my lover to come,
I while away the bitter boredom,
But I won’t fall asleep
Until me lover comes.
I waste away in the bathtub,
But I won’t get out
Until my lover comes.
While I wait for my lover to come,
The demon calls to measure my love,
But I won’t aswer the door
Until me lover comes.
Save me, my darling, my sweetthing.
Baptize me clean,
And I’ll be yours
Forever more. |
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5.
HIJIKATA TATSUMI
He danced on his deathbed
and so performed his final dance
for friends, family, and lovers,
and all those who’d had the chance
to know him, to love him.
My domesticated body
and my mind by moderation tamed
seethe within my xerox-copied skin,
and I ask him: “Is all freedom dark?”
One thousand and one birds
take off in an instant,
flying-feeling-filling through the air,
and I ask them: “Is all freedom light?”
He danced on his deathbed
and so performed his final dance
for friends, family, and lovers,
and all those who’d had the chance
to know him, to love him.
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6.
YOUR ROOM
I try to remember your room.
There were three doors leading to bathroom, closet,
living room.
And there were two windows, with their blinds always
drawn
To keep out other people’s eyes and the harsh
summer sunlight,
As you sat on your downy white bed.
I try to remember your room.
Cinderblocks bookshelves laden with pretty picture
books to look at
As I sat on your downy white bed,
learning about people, times, and places I’d
probably never know.
I try to remember your room.
Three big drawings on thick white paper
that would billow with the summer breeze
over our heads as we sat on your downy white bed,
looking at children’s drawings, convict watercolors,
and eventually
the three paintings that I made thee.
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7.
SUNDAY AFTERNOON
We saw a movie. We saw a waterfall.
We saw an ocean. We saw lots of baseball.
We saw a movie, “Jesus of Montreal.”
We saw a gypsy at a carnival.
Close the curtains—
Let’s stay home afterall.
Sunday afternoon.
It’s a sunny day in my living room.
I’ve got the greys, and I’ve got the
blues
Of Sunday afternoons.
We saw a movie shot in Paris, France.
We felt groovy, fell into a trance.
Close the curtains,
While we still have the chance.
(chorus)
We saw a movie. We saw a starry sky.
We saw each other by candlelight.
Close the curtain—
Let’s stay home tonight.
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8.
I’VE GOT A GUN
I’ve got a gun & a pocket full of bullets.
I’m gonna shoot you down.
You’ve got a gun & a pocket full of bullets.
You’re gonna shoot me down.
I’ve got a gun & a pocket full of bullets.
I’m gonna shoot you down.
You’ve got a gun & a pocket full of bullets.
And you’re gonna shoot me down.
And then we’ll both be too dead to make love
in the living room.
And then we’ll both be too dead to have fun
making the baby boom.
And then we’ll both be too dead to see freedom
coming over the mountain.
And then we’ll both be too dead to kiss &
make up at our homecoming.
Life’s not elegant, Mum, whatever your calling
is.
Life’s not elegant, Mum, whatever you’re
calling it.
I’m changing the face of warfare.
I’m changing the face of warfare.
You’re getting sleepy now.
Your eyes, they close no matter how
Hard you try to overpower
My powers.
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9.
SPRING
Break all my bones. I’ll learn to walk again.
Break all my bones. I’ll learn to dance again.
Here comes the springtime. April rain bring May
blooms.
Here comes the time change: green lawns and long
afternoons.
Wipe off all my charms. I’ll learn to fly
again.
Wipe off all my charms. I’ll learn to breather
underwater again.
Here comes the springtime, daffodils in Easter hats.
Here comes the time change: spring forward, no more
falling back.
Laugh at all my dreams. I’ll learn to see
again.
Laugh at all my dreams. I’ll learn to hope
and to try again.
Here comes the springtime. Bare branches give birth
to leaves.
Here comes the timechange, holding a new hand, grateful
for the breeze.
Still my swollen lips. I’ll learn to speak
again.
Still my swollen lips. I’ll learn to sing
again.
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10.
STRANGE WIND
There is a strange wind in the air today.
Tree branches are budding and then blown away.
There is a strange wind in the air today.
Spiny pods are dropping and then drift away.
But they will be blown in the next millennium,
And I promise myself, I’m coming with them.
There is a strange wind in the air today.
My skirt lifts up. My hair’s astray.
There is a strange wind in the air today.
My little body’s born up, then thrown away.
But I will be born into the next millennium.
I jump aboard the ship of bored, lost children.
There is a strange wind in the air today.
I fill up my hot-air balloon and untie my stakes.
I will be blown into the next millennium.
I will be born into the next millennium.
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11.
AGE
Today’s not an age made for maidens,
But I am the age of a maiden:
Maiden eyes, maiden lips,
Maiden thighs, maiden hips,
Maiden nose. Maiden knows.
Today’s not an age shaped for shepherds,
But you are the age of a shepherd:
Shepherd hands, shepherd feet,
Shepherd glands, shepherd heartbeat,
Shepherd nose. Shepherd knows.
Today’s not an age partial to pastures,
But here we are in a pasture:
Past your eyes, passed my lips,
Past you thighs, passed my hips,
Past your nose. And the pasture knows.
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12.
THE RIVER & THE OCEAN
Iam a river in the ocean, particles spread far and thin,
But I can still remember what I was then.
Now I am something greater, though less of what I was
The day that I discovered I was a river in the ocean.
I am a bird whistling in the dark, stuck in this cavernous
mine.
When silence falls, you know it’s time to start
running.
I am a bird that’s never seen much light, stuck
in this cavernous ark.
Soon they’ll send me out to look for land,
And I’ll bring back a little bark.
I am a stroller in the park, wrapped ‘round this
beautiful babe.
I and the dark-skinned woman pushing me are its slaves.
I am a stroller in the park, walking my flypaper skin
Through the balmy August air which sucks my body’s
waters from within.
I am a river in the ocean, just a river in the ocean.
But I’m waiting for the rainstorm to take me back
upstream.
And I’m waiting for the brainstorm to fill me back
to the brim.
So bring on the lightning. This midnight orange sky grows
frightening.
So bring on the lightning. Bring on the enlightening.
Break the water for me!
What’s the difference between nothing & everything?
What’s the difference between noone & everyone?
What’s the difference between nowhere and everywhere?
Everything, everyone, and everywhere.
But what’s the difference?
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