Poem "Brush"

now that it’s over / i need to be somewhere else

maybe i’m finally ready to return to myself

maybe i can be at peace / at least if nothing else

now that it’s over / i’ll take my old table in the corner

have a drink / and lean back / and breathe in the smoke and sap

in the low lights of the old fires

as i sing / i want to run my fingers / over the texture of your sweater

as i play / i want to send my voice / into a resonating chamber

what i’m looking for / is the ground beneath the floor

and the clouds above this roof

now that i’m clear / i need to get back to basics

in the open air / in a pair of retro asics

it can be as simple as that

now that you’re near / i need to spend some time with you

brush my fingers through your hair / breathe in

thread myself / between the needles of the trees

as i dream / i want to feel / the brushfire inside my mind

when i wake / i want the chill / of a morning in the pines

what i’m looking for / is a blade acute enough / to draw my blood

and a leach to bleed me free

spike me with a rush / let the tension gush

like a river underneath a suspension bridge

connect the dots / and tear them apart

in an undisciplined curve of fission

when i wake / i want to feel the chill / and the thrill / of the winds of change

what i’m looking for / is the ground beneath the floor

and the clouds above this roof

now that it’s over / i need to be somewhere else

maybe i’m finally ready to return to myself

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