Helpless

Words go out like a candle flame in a breeze, Never failing to amaze me until the moment I get bored. I think of all the lights that I’ve adored but I’m not like, Whether Nasty Dylan or Saint Joan Baez Or lustful Joni Mitchell or musty Neil Young, And it makes me feel helplessly dark And small and imprecise Like I’m lost and out of control in the faraway Of some daybreak horizon I’ve never seen Or on one of those streaked gray highways Out of a dreadful dream where it’s endlessly Sticky and clammy and black-devilled night And there’s no one here but me until the resurrection. rcs Created on 11/21/2009 9:28 PM