I'm just now getting round to letting go. But you had your suitcase packed a long time ago. The road got rough and you got ahead of me. I tried to pull you back, now I know you had to leave.
In the darkness it finds me. the terrible fire. it don't matter how much I pray. The flames leap and burn me. There's nothing I can do. To make the fear go away.
At the Downtowner, near the Roosevelt Baths. Forty-eight fifty if you pay in cash. Spanish television up through the floor. Desk clerk don't look up when I walk by anymore.
You tell me you're sorry. And it lands like a blow. You leave me stranded. With nowhere to go. Your eyes are beaten. Weathered and sore. And I know you.
My mama had held me one time then kissed me goodbye. Bu I still believe in love. She never came back and I don't know why. But I still believe in love.
(Mary Gauthier). . We lie here and we lie here. Awaiting the return. Of the passion that has left us. With the patience we've learned. Sinking in the ashes.
Under water, under the well. Under glass, under a ground swell. Chasing bliss, chasing my tail. Chasing desire, straight down to Hell. . I couldn't love, could not forgive.
A baby. A FOUNDLING. Unwanted. LOOKING. Unloved and unblessed. FOR. Left on a doorstep. HOME. An unbidden guest. WANDERS. A shivering shadow. THROUGH.
Mama said she don't give a damn what those people say. Cane smoke can't be good for you day after day. Every year at harvest time when the black smoke filled the sky.
I don't trust my eyes any more. They don't know what they're looking for. Thinking back on what they didn't see. I think my eyes were blinding me. . Some people never really love.
We stood in a long line waitin' for the door be unlocked. Out in the cold wind,? round the razor wire fenced in cell block. Young mamas with babies, sisters and other kinds of kin.
Look at me, on the high wire. As I attempt to balance safety with desire. Step right up, get your tickets here. What you see should have you trembling with fear.
Painted a perfect picture. And busted my frame. With all this cheap ass talking. You need an oxygen tank. If you're gonna do it, do it right. Got to catch the flow, got to hit em low.
People stare and then they walk away. But there's always a few who'll stay. From the state I watch 'em close their eyes. Like a little kid trying to hide.
Packing vagabond visions and a dream drenched hunger. for a home. Swaddled in road dirt, blood stained blankets and. poems. On a stormy suitcase Sunday I awakened to the scream.
JOHN. I'm not here as a friend. I have a job to do. it's strange to find my work. should lead me here to you. Chris knows all about you. I have shown him all this.
Black clouds blowing 'cross a blustery sky. Black clouds blowing 'cross a blustery sky. South of Highway 7 all alone crying. Oh soul I sold you away. .
Our Lady of the Shooting Stars. Was that you last night?. Did we dance a whispered waltz,. Did I hold you in my sight?. When morning came with open arms.
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Hello this is Mary, oh yeah, march 11, 1962. It took me 500 dollars and 40 years to find you. I know it's almost Christmas, I don't mean to make you cry.