Tom Waits For No Man

​This is the room with the reynold's wrap rug that crinkles under foot like angel bones This is the room where the stars landed when they fell out of the good graces of wishmakers This is the room where jiminy cricket j-j-j-jitterbugged while termite surgeons performed rhinoplasty on pinnochio This is the room where the voices will overtake you

Hung-over again,
half-dreaming when
the Nigerian men 
make pilgrimage
to your bedroom. 
You can't understand
what they want from
you. They are spea-
king Braille to your
American Sign Langu-
age fluent ears.

And the ticking and the ticking and the ticking and the ticking and the ticking of the clock crash crack ricochets across your skull You are a porcelain man An etch-a-sketch man Easily shaken since your parents stopped juxtaposing your dependent clauses Ever since your virginity starved lover grew sick and fat with false pregnancy you've paused to reflect that their may be more to this life than the minimum wage bar scene you've been supporting with your liver

They come bearing tape
measures, and masking
tape, casette tapes and
tape decks. The sound
track of your morning 
is their hammers against
your wall. They are
here to repair your wind-
ows for starters. There
will be no more chill
seeping in during winter
nights. They are measu-
ring your panes before
they replace the glass
with polycarbonate and
Pollyana. You will have
sweet smiling unshatter-
able windows to your mood.

You promised you would no longer belly up to the bar like a goldfish You would be koi swimming in sobriety and soda water You would no longer stare at the black painted windows during daylight hours questioning why god won't look out for you 

The men leave
their offerings.
You, the God of
unkept promises.
They are building
their staircase
away from you.
Spiraling up in-
stead of down.

You are an ant aflame Polycarbonate magnifying sun burning retinas bloodshot You can't see the point of rolling out of bed Your tongue the mangiest of red carpets This is the room where decision hibernates You can kick it like a rockette habit and still it snores Taking stock of your life does nothing until you reinvest yourself somewhere else Until then you are just a bottleless genie seeking redemption in a room full of genieless bottles
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Thu, Apr. 22nd, 2004 07:44 am (local)
kattullusThis is excellent.

That's all I have to say.

Oh, and did you look at the lyrics/poem I posted the other day?
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Thu, Apr. 22nd, 2004 05:22 pm (local)
akamuuI have not yet, but I shall.
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Thu, Apr. 22nd, 2004 06:33 pm (local)
kattullusCool! Looking forward to!