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Tucson
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"Once you have given up the ghost, everything follows with dead certainty, even in the midst of chaos."
— Henry Miller (Tropic of Capricorn)
Park Street Sure is Lonely Tonight
They swarm like maggots, they buzz like flies
They’re holding conferences,
They’re telling lies
…and really,
I’m one of them
I’m daft, I’m wretched
I (too) debase my fellow man
“I know what his problem is, he tries too hard
goes home every night, to play a sad guitar”
when opportunity comes, catch it if you can
as for me, I’ll like my wounds and try to be a descent man
alone with lonely thoughts
writing “L.O.V.E.” in inky blots
not wanting to be forgot
with empty humility
I offer friendship
With rare propensity
I give you my word
But if the meek shall inherit the earth
Than with wanton desire,
We will all perish in the fire
Yeah, I’ve been told,
That you never get used to the heat
I can’t tell if it is hot or cold
Tonight, here on Park Street
…I’ll never get used to the heat…
…I’ll never get used to this…
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