The manifestation of the fool in the garden

I hardly have to make my bed in the morning 
Keep the sator square 
on a little slip of paper in my breast pocket
with all the other charms
keep the plants alive, 
keep the devil from my heart,
keep the windows shut, 
keep the frost away
sleep on the couch 
with my socks still on
& streetlight blanket 
ringing through the window all night long 
warm enough 
to last
a hundred uninsulated winter.

Lay me in them womens care 
whom I'd never cross-
stick needles in my wrists,
hold hands above me 
in the quaking silence
of second floor
& us, a tribe of healers
all sorts in the lot
& me, of many masks
a deceptor only for self-preservations sake 
but what was it 
130 40 something pounds of parlor tricks
& me, of many desires 
too lost in the speed of it all
to make them known
& an endless rebirth 
with diction like this
& the curiosity of such an awareness
in light of the order of events.
All my old friends 
would reel back in their skin
& adorn my days
glimmering shortcoming
what I do 
for money
what I don't do for me
the photograph matt took of me mopping up '16 
the photograph of Megan down by the river I've always carried
the things I used to do for you
that I learned to do for me
tell my brother not behind
just leave me be
tell momma I been workin hard
not where I been
decrescendo into benzo 
fault lines back to independo 
could've used a friend 

finger swollen over that cheap gold plated
we got at some shopping plaza down in Miami
& shadow play a mimicry of time well spent
five short again
but somebody,
somebodys got me
covered
down the line

mass market dreamcatchers 
hang from the rear views 
of rotten old machines
handed down from the last generation 
of young & spirited
now bogged in haze
debt
cigarette smoke
rittled sinus tract
drop me at the corner. 
who wakes up with their shoes on 
& walks with the wind at their back 
in the city of destitute-
of sleeping yogin with crooked spine, 
stern sorrow, fixed pupil?
carry an awful resentment in gut 
for them with the tides upon them
& all cards in deck
therein lies the illusion
the trick with pentacles 
was always the absent of want 
& maybe the score 
runs the same for cups
maybe Cleveland 
only a bad dream
& dice roll 
nothing more
than a test of faith
maybe all the old battle lines wash out like chalk
when the rain comes in
& the great balancer 
always
always has her way
& dice roll
nothing more

who wakes
from visions of god 
to walk among men
& wander 'round bend
with head raised to the world 
& pride in step
through the damp weight of history
all our fragmented karmic hours 
all the self betrayal in concrete
& who was it
with eyes shut 
to the forefront
until time off loop
listening to earth with the soles of feet
laying down fossil in the riverbed
& what
in the hollows of your bones
that kept legs moving 
whose memory 
wrapped its ivy 
'round your ankle 
to hold you down again.

Clambering sidewalks through the dystrophy of urban night
below streetlight flutter glass like diamond
& men leaning into the gas station wall starting to recognize me,
the woman with cloth wrapped to cover her larynx cross legged in the grass lot 
& the highways infinity winds singing the american economic system 
& the best poems I ever wrote
going going gone 
to the nights trudging this lanky thing along senseless routes
occasionally picking up stray tweakers trailing in the wake of movement
promise they're good men by day ( I don't doubt it - hope to be alike )
& disappearing suddenly for anything faster 
returning me to the solemnity of aching feet 
& I am not of your days
but simply passing through
always forgotten watching the paint chips dripping from the ceiling
& beyond them 
& beyond the radius of light pollution
that we call home
time clicks regardless 
of loss
& that is comfort enough to sleep another night

morning across town 
circumambulate 
the Marjorie 
3 more times 
then I'll go
call me the iron goddess of mercy 
shroud me in the robes of your people
turn my blood in the soil 
& hand me over 
to the hungry dogs.

& old Kyle hall
Where did you go
Did you get all those letters 
I never sent?
Did you taste my longing in the air?
Do you know 
how I miss you
my old friend? 
I don't know
any of the punk kids
anymore
I don't think I ever did
you must wear that tattoo on your ankle & Jonathan Richmond sings now
it's hard for me to wrap my head round those days still
you always saw me in a tizzy
& come to think,
Who didn't? 
Who could trace my spirit 
even a moment
if I cannot?

& o-brother
wondering for my health
trust in you
dead as a broke dick dog
& we might just 
dig another out the ditch
this year 
should you stay true 
should the bark of some plant 
be your brothers keeper
wrap him 
in the banners of that sacred love
the earth carry for all her children
earth sing through me
& let the great balancer 
enact thy will 
let me give myself 
for another mans life
who could serve you
better
find me sideways
in a fools pen
if lance around 
tell me I can't save em all again

might just fall off til ya need me
might just drop my charms off 'fore ya see me 
might just leave god on the side of the road
remember that the most sure fire way to win the long match
is patience 
Pops taught me that
in his way 
you might just find me 
down in the riverbed 
with a secret grin
knee deep in it
always 
took poor odds 
always loved 
a test of faith