“Will that piano fit?”
As the sleepy eyes
Slide open on this Indiana town
We pack our belongings to head east
Back to Brooklyn
In a summers ease
I grab my keys
It’s almost noon now
Time passes us quickly
As we make our way back to they city
El Paso at 2 AM
The energy of a border thin
Passing through lights on the horizon
Highways
Vagabonds
The overwhelming feeling
Of people who have made their way
Over into the USA
“I will FUCKING KILL YOU”
The words bellow from the belly
Of the loosely dressed man
On Manhattan Ave
Across from Manhattan Inn
Enough vigor and resolute
To carry the words to my own
Windowsill
I crept to the window
The man seemed unwell
Ill
I couldn’t make it out the clear
Words strung about a 100 bill
–
“Why don’t you come over here”
“See who the real man is”
The street lights illuminate his
Contorted face
I pull back from the window screen
He glances in my direction
As he walks towards Manhattan Ave.
And Nassau intersection
–
I am fully engaged at this point
This rage within this man
Has the whole neighborhood up at
2 AM
–
Cars rumble past blurring
What was said
What was heard
I could only faintly here but a word
All this rage and anger
Over a C note
On that note I better get back to bed
–
Whatever he had said
It was life in the form of entertainment
I am not upset from the loss of sleep
Just tired
Whatever kept that man up
Had really shook him
On just another night
In Brooklyn
The late night salute
4 AM
Late night eyes
To boot
We dance with our technology
Until the wee hours
Entangled in a web
On a web
Every last fiber in my head
Connected
Needing the next moment
I own it
This is the way I spend the hours
Working
Trying to connect the un connectable
While my head is full
Eyes bloodshot and wide
Hair frayed
Dismayed
Until my head is laid
This is the routine
I try to break out
But something new is always breaking in
There is no loss no win
Just spending every last hour
Until the night runs thin
The scent of change
Came at 4 AM
I rolled over in my bed
“When was the last time
I smelled the fresh bread”
At this point I was completely
In my head
I knew the change was coming
The bakery was on its way out
I still had one small shriveled doubt
Maybe the planned buyout
Was not as good of a plan
They would develop a alternate route
As I lay awake
Thinking
It had been at least a week
So I cracked the curtain to take
A quick peek
The burnt carmel building
Was at a complete standstill
I could see this from
My windowsill
Never again would the smell of
Fresh bread bellow
Down Manhattan Avenue
It was a nice offset to bus exhaust
But now it is lost
Lost
Gone
I am new here
I own that I have very airy feelings
Where others die-cast old love
Would feel it in there hearts much above
I can remember
When my wife and I stopped in
Knocked on the door
A man came out from within
Gave him a 5 spot and
Us a loaf
We stood on the corner
Eating it whole
The memory was the brightest
Of the few short lived time
But the old place is gone
Make way for the condos
Pack it up and move on
I heard the little guys squealing through the night
What was I supposed to do
Nothing else I could do
I had to trap them
Get them out
I woke in the morning as I would any other
Dreading a certain task that
Lie in my certain future
However this was a task
I loathed
This is New York and I have a renter coming in later
So sometimes I just have to
Thrust each foot
One in front of the other
I peak around the corner to discover
Not one, or two
But three rats entangled in a sticky mess
A sweet concoction
A paste
Tieing mouths, feet, and bodies to the goo
They writhed, and gnawed, up and down
Breathing fast as they could
Little did I expect what I saw
But quickly I understood
It was a small family all stuck there
I have no soft spot for rats
But I did feel a bit queazy
And I do have a renter coming in this afternoon
So off they go
Somehow an article of ours had been entangled in the mess
So I slowly worked the chord out
While the rats writhed more and shouted
Their high pitched scream
This is not the city I had grown up to know
But here I am with gloved on
Trying to pull chords off rat family
Entangled on a board of sticky sweetness
Not quite sure how I got here
–
So I dispose of the rat family
Breathe slow
And return to my day
–
My wife wakes up
We talk about the rats
I was not excited about the conversation
But I had taken care of it
The next topic on our minds
Food Stamps
I never thought we were that bad off
But somehow
The rats, the rent, the life
It comes at a price
That we are just coming up a bit short of
So we talk briefly about opportunities to eat
To have more food
“Seems like we are perfect candidates”
“Yea” I respond
“I don’t see why not”
–
This is all to the setting of the biggest looming opportunity
We have ever had in our lives
We have dedicated our lives to our art
Somehow opportunities are sometimes presented
Rather than sought
–
So as I sit at the piano to rehearse
I realize
My life
Somehow
As weird and dysfunctional as it can be
Makes sense
I am
Only
As safe
As
I believe
I am
Hit the breaks
Stop contemplate
Irritated by waiting
Needed time away
A resort of the mind
They would say
Some days
You just have to say
Enough
I need
A
Break
Tucked in amongst the mountains
Sleep well
Rest and return
To a replenished you
That is what the life among the hills
Will do
Don’t wreck the morning
Twill slip away with no warning
Late nights give way to undone time
Lines of sunlight pass through the cracks
Until the high of noon will come to pass
I collaborate with ideas
Giving up has no relation
Manifestation of lazy eyes
Rest and wake
In the morning
A Cup of Songwriting 