Too bad about the
Dirtman

After goin' to heaven
and all they said
he couldn't stay

so he said
"bring the wine and I'll
turn it to water"

I knew the
Dirtman

he was a
Biker

he liked to get
High

(turned toward the
silence
inside)

Hard for me to
love the part of
me that loves
her

(Think I've moved
through enough pain
to live in heaven
again)

They say the afterlife
is overrated and all
them saints just
turnto dirt

I know that something happened
she don't understand
(whatever is silent between us
buries the gold hidden in
our
souls)

Broken images
you're too lost

to be with me

(have no need for
identity)

Undreamed ourselves
(visions deconstructed
from lucid astral
calculations)

You realized after
we broke down the
barriers

you were
alone

My friend and I talked
some years ago about
a dream where Kirk Douglas
gave advice

I can't recall if he had
the dream or I did

We wake in visions
replaced by versions
of self

Motorcycles are sacred
(you've forgotten how
beautiful you are)

You have to
Change before
you can change

The reason I love you
is because you love my
poetry

(the small dirt trail
leading to my heart
is so narrow
I fear

Only God can
enter)

God is a poet
of whom I am vaguely
Aware

(We saw her name
in tablets and scrolls)

Glimpsed her veiled face
beyond Mystic Indian
Clouds

(I've tried so
hard to be
Free)

Are you tired
of the time travel

(ending up before the
beginning)

Struggling with ancient
battles forever exorcising
ghosts from your
head

The utopian dreams
of future escaping
to a place of perfection

Worse than your Christian
ancestors