paris from a balcony

standing on my balcony overlooking the eiffel tower

i've been standing on this balcony for at least a half-an-hour

smoking rolled cigarettes and drinking perrier

and thinking over all of the things i saw today

the louvre is the biggest building i have ever seen

and it's true what they say about french people being mean

the tower at night will direct your eyes to god

the lights were so amazing, i felt obliged to applaud

as we sat and waited for the dusk to dawn

children set off firecrackers on the surrounding lawn

their laughter brought me back in time to better days

bak to a time when i wasn't filled with such malaise

i'm five floors up and staring down at destiny

i'm six feet short and wondering, "where's the rest of me"

just a hollow man with a dream but without a plan

and my dream is scattered by truth as the sheets by the corner fan

paris in the summertime is no cure for my condition

as i'm standing on this balcony with a complete lack of volition

the familiar click of an answering machine

sometimes it rings four times, sometimes only two or three. then the familiar click, and the congenial message that serves to remind me of a better place and better times. sometimes i leave a message, sometimes i just place the phone back in its cradle. sometimes i leave that big red booth merely hanging my head, other times i semi-slam the folding doors shut in an unseen demonstration of futile frustration. sometimes i get paranoid and think that maybe there's a reason that you're not answering my calls. other times i am almost overcome by a longing and a sadness that is completely foreign, even though i know all too well this feeling of longing and this fear of loss. as i was walking out of the tube tonight, i drifted a little too close to the train as it pulled away and i felt it brush against my sleeve, and for a fleeting moment, i felt a warm chill travel down my spine as i thought of what would happen if one of the doors caught my sleeve. and just then i smiled, my first smile of the night.

song of longing

lonely in a crowded room

choking in a cloud of fumes

running through the empty space

running forever, staying in place

lactic acid pumping through my veins

lime green bile leaving forever stains

red roses, red roses

forever bleeding noses

dehydration caused by overliquidation

we're just hopeless products of our consumeristic nation

blurry visions of curry kitchens

remind me again of all i'm missing

give me pain-killers for my heart

give me tranquilizers disguised as art

bring me hope, bring me light, bring me love

bring me healing, bring down fire from above.

invincibility lost

i dropped my camera tonight. i think it's broken. it's 20 years old, and i dropped it on the pavement, and it's broken. i'll be 20 in three months, give or take a couple of days. hopefully i don't break before then, but at the rate i'm going, i'm not completely sure i'll make it. do you remember when we were invincible? do you remember when nothing could hurt us and death couldn't find us? do you remember running through the streets on a cold rainy night, howling at the sky, daring the world to come and get us? i'm coughing now. kiel's funeral was a few months ago. we didn't go. how could we? how could we see him buried? how could we be reminded of our own mortality? we went to mammoth instead. we drove fast, away from that place that death had found. we drove fast and recklessly and we felt the wind in our hair and we dedicated the trip to him and sang bro-hymn in his memory. and we felt invincible again. but it was only a fleeting moment. and i'm coughing now.