another life, not televised, and union

Recorded at the YMCA Metro Central on November 2, 2005

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Children of the Revolution

To you The children of the revolution I offer my deepest sympathy To the bell-bottomed Love-beaded Flower-children Who died on barren fields That oozed socio-political decay When all you wanted was To light your truth-filled pipe To breathe in And watch your own mind Playing with stars To Kodak a Soho thigh And fill a worn out knapsack With the sufferings of a dying world To lose yourself In existential nothingness And make love To the world Under a psychedelic sky What an absurdity That you should forget Where you are And that here Such things Are almost impossible . . .

Waiting

Time is the roman numbered clock at Union Station. The one that I ask you to meet me at the first time —the one you can’t picture in your mind but find anyway. The crowd on the street is as fleeting as the excuses I made for you to meet me, to love me . . .