California Dreaming

I wake up to the sound of fruit that drops
to smog-spun smiles and aftershocks
the palm trees rise like prison bars
and there's sand in all the locks

It's driveways n' TVs up to where the hills have stopped
And the suntan is gone and her lipstick is off
I strike a match and light the end
of another pack of lost

California dreaming
All the signs say HAVE A NICE DAY
And in my wildest dreams I'll be leaving you some day

the sun climbs up the avocado hill
I squint my eyes and I pay my bill
And I haven't made it back to Oklahoma yet
and I guess I never will

Oklahoma where the fireflies
Dance like wayward city lights
Red dirt in my fingernails
And the long, long midnight trains

I sift myself into another night
where the traffic barks and the neon bites
and the buskers songs are sunburned
and the tide is way too tight

California dreaming
All the signs say HAVE A NICE DAY
And in my wildest dreams I'll be leaving you some day

~ Brendan Bonsack & Angie LaPaglia

Million Acre Sky

All this road, and I
Measuring the distance
Of my breath

All these stones
Their bellies pressed in
Pitch and formed a highway
and the gravel in my eyes
sifting all the distance
now between us

And that million acre sky
Pinned to the corners of my eyes
Will be my only fellow traveler
And all that courses through my veins
Will be my guide

all these horizons
all these roads I've cobbled up
inside me

I've watched them turn to purple
and fade into the
bruises of my soles
And after all, my lover
tomorrow's just another
stone to throw

And that million acre sky curls around me
Like a question in the night
It takes the shadows from under my feet
And wonders, should I give
And wonders, should I give
another day

I'm getting old now, I can feel it
All the footprints I have made
Have been lifted by the wind
And carried far away
And I can see them landing softly
And true outside your door
Where they will look behind for me no more

And that million acre sky
Pinned to the corners of my eyes
Will be my only fellow traveler
And all that courses through my veins
All that courses through my veins
Will be my guide

~ Brendan Bonsack & Angie LaPaglia

Wish

It was a husky chilly evening
You were taking out the trash
Those green green bottles rattling
In the belly of that bag
In your two strong hands

And the street was like a toothache
Just after the pills be kicking in
The wailing and the shouting from
Within the red brick jowls
Of your house at number ten

And I hear a clock a' ticking
In the feet of people getting off their rides
Folded in their faces like a patent holy book
A line for every wish that has died
A line for every wish that has died

And a big, bad organ was pumping
all the people and the sad
and your three-story longing
in the funnel of this street
and the endings you'd have had

Well the bottles, they be broken
fallen longnecks, dreamers of your dreams
and the the street lamp's fit for dying
and the gutter stumbles on
and shadows are all taller than they seem

And I hear the bones a' grinding
In the jaws of people waiting for their rides
Talking small in pantomimes taken in by rote
A line for every wish that has died
A line for every wish that has died

And I hear a clock a' ticking
In the feet of people getting off their rides
Folded in their faces like a patent holy book
A line for every wish that has died
A line for every wish that has died

It was a husky chilly evening
You were taking out the trash
Your two strong hands slipping from
The shoulders of that bag
Like the old thing laid to rest at last

~ Brendan Bonsack & Angie LaPaglia

Bones

Look at these
These are my bones
The valleys and hills
Beneath my clothes

This river of ribs
Landscape of me
an atlas undone
What do you see?

Am I the coming of the storm for you
Or the shelter from the storm?
All the trees I tried to grow
In my field of bones
Are still standing
Close to breaking
Like they were never home

your tree of life
your rib to spare
bones, bones everywhere
and none has made you man
and none has made you man

beneath this storm
its reign of rust
my marrow whisper
turns to dust

I've grown this Eden
with blood and tears
my gate of bones
will greet you here

Am I the desert rose for you
or the rising of the tide?
All the seeds I tried to sow
In this field of bones
Have risen
almost broken
Like this was never home

your tree of life
your rib to spare
bones, bones everywhere
and none has made you man
and none has made you man
and none has made you man

~ Brendan Bonsack & Angie LaPaglia

Long Shadow

I did not make this bed today
and my long, long shadow
is by far
the loudest thing
in this room

my breath is coiled
like the springs beneath me
and the creases in these sheets
cannot, cannot
they can never be
undone

Come,
Be gathered round me
You soft and
Boundless threads
Clamour at my edges
This uncovered
Continent

I’ve lain naked on this bed today
for a long, long time
a structure
collapsing
as silent as skin

the truth is tied
like the tongue inside me
and the curves of the braid
will not, will not
they will never be
undone

Come,
Be gathered round me
You sturdy cotton drifts
Tomorrow
I'm the continent
On every
sailor's lips

~ Brendan Bonsack & Angie LaPaglia

My Coat

"The buzzards are circling closer than usual. Something has died again: The five-day-old pizza in the creased foil bag -- spinach, artichoke, olive oil, all half gone. The gray moth caught in the web in the window -- it was my lamp that drew it, beside the bed, half full. The tomato vine -- the last in the garden before the coming fall, its flaming fruit. Death isn't so big, I think.

I go out with three books; I open one. The guy with the beard observes my read. He isn't so big either, I think. I finish my drink. Before I jump I will put on my coat"



Thursday was so full of holes
Some of them for peeking through
And some of them to hold me
Some as fine as needle eyes
And some ragged as a gold dig

Well my coat jumped
Farther than I
It billowed
Like an eagle
Like a flag
And said find me
In the morning
And I will tell you
What it's like
All the way down inside

Thursday was so full of holes
My fingers finding places in
The laden pockets beyond stitching
That you're never meant to find
Where gather all the missing things

My coat was taller than I
And it waited in the hallway
Like a friend
Who said take me where you're going
I know that it's warm outside
But I'll just come for the ride

Thursday was so full of holes
Strands of sun were peeking through
And they filled the highway
And the skin around my nails
And we sat, dappled as a lizard
Too big for our skins

My coat was smaller than I
Dog eared and half open
In the breeze
It said remember when you found me
It was a gold fall night like this
And I had been left behind

"Death is not so big I think
Before I jump
I will pick up my coat"

My coat fell farther than I
Unfurling like a buzzard on the wind
A creature with no edges
As the whole damn night
Took him in
Then it was cold against my skin

Well my coat jumped
Farther than I
It billowed
Like an eagle
Like a flag
And said find me
In the morning
And I will tell you
What that was like
All the way down inside

~ Brendan Bonsack & Angie LaPaglia