Waterless Deep End

We break into a ruin
For that shard of golden light
And I never want to be
This happy again
We can't go near the lake, you said
No-one comes out alive
Oh I never want to be
This happy again
In the waterless deep end with you, oh
Such ever pretty tiles
I never want to be
This happy again

You might be a dancer
In the life you never lived, I could
Kiss you where the music
Always hurt you like it did

Silence in the library
Sands of books up to our knees
Oh I never want to be
This happy again
The footnotes are our language
They're all we understand
Oh I never want to be
This happy again

You might be a dancer
In the life you never lived, I could
Kiss you where the music
Always hurt you like it did

We break into into a ruin
Just as easy as a song
Oh I never want to be
This happy again
Let them deduce just how we loved by
The arrangement of our bones
Oh I never want to be
This happy again

Not every lake
But any lake
May be sole a body of tears

We break into a ruin
For that shard of golden light
And I never want to be
This happy again

You might be a dancer
In the life you never lived, I could
Kiss you where the music
Always hurt you like it did

~ Brendan Bonsack

Google and The Bomb

I recall Uncle predicting Google. With Father at the table, and the smoke plume that smelled of marshmallow and made me jumpy giddy sleepy. The problem with people who say the problem with people is the problem with people, he said. I was eight, but I remember exactly the feeling of that, rolled in my earlobe like a tiny plastic ball-bearing maze. One of these days, machines will answer back so quick you won’t have time to know if they’re lying.

Put the launch codes in the heart of a man.
Not EVERY man, but ANY man.
The war of the many mushroom clouds
Begins with a dagger in the hands of a grifter
Going door to door for each chest.

Uncle was a champion racer in the United States of America. Met Mister Kennedy just days before his date with destiny. Mother had a yellowed picture from the paper. But then there was this fire. Uncle told me to never be frightened of Brezhnev and The Bomb. The end won’t come in brimstone, he said, switching the nightlight on. It’ll be boring like a virus, from a supermarket chicken, or a deep jungle frog. Sleep well, my boy. See you, anon. Google me sometime.

~ Brendan Bonsack

That Bridge

It’s a long walk to the middle
Of that bridge, of that bridge
And the chill is fierce
On the side of midnight you chose

I want to think that as the breeze
Whistled through the wires
You were reminded of the trees

The trees to which we nailed
Precarious floors, steering wheels
Dread pirate flags

And the splintery fence paling plank
Out over the yard
How each of us knew it was much
Much too far to jump

And how each of us was lying
That we had done it
We had done it

I like to think
that’s why you didn’t
at least, if not for love

~ Brendan Bonsack

Oh Hansel Dear

Oh, Hansel dear, the breadcrumbs haven’t worked at all
As we slept the woods were eaten by a city wide and tall
And all those candy houses bear our story on repeat
And birds lay flattened in moon-shone patches all along the streets

Brother, I still wonder
I’ve become but skin and bone
Have I simply followed you too far
My pockets weighed with stones?

Oh, Hansel dear, the breadcrumbs haven’t worked at all
As we slept they were swept and packed for market at a price we can’t afford
And all those sugar-coated chimneys with their sweet smelling plumes
I knocked on every single door today and everyone refused me

Brother, I still wonder
I’ve become but skin and bone
Have I simply followed you too far
My pockets weighed with stones?

Oh, Hansel dear, the breadcrumbs haven’t worked at all
And I keep hearing ‘cross the pebble-peppered cul-de-sacs the warning of the woodcutter calling
Don’t bite to taste the hand that offers you a meal,
A meal through the cage
Well, that is how it was always told to me when I was just your age

Brother, I still wonder
I've become but skin and bone
Have I let my hands sleep too long inside
My pockets full of stones?

Brother, I still wonder
I’ve become but skin and bone
Have I simply followed you too far
My pockets weighed with stones?

~ Brendan Bonsack

When the King Falls

When the king falls
We'll weep the tears that ought to be wept
We'll sleep the sleeps that should have been slept
We'll kick the leaves that would have been swept

When the king falls
We'll dance the steps we were taught to forget,
Re-sing the tunes we were taught to neglect,
Find all the things that should have been kept

Blindness will fade,
When the king falls
The hunger will subside again,
When the king falls
I will learn to love again,
When the king falls
We will be alive again,
When the king falls

When the king falls
I'll feel the things that should have been felt,
I'll yell the yells that should have been yelled,
I'll fix the things that couldn't be helped.

When the king falls
I'll ask the things that were never asked
He'll be smaller then - without his mask -
He'll be all alone like the rest of us.

I will see clear again,
When the king falls
The hunger disappear again,
When the king falls
We will learn to love again,
When the king falls
I will be alive again,
When the king falls

When the king falls
We'll take the hands that couldn't be held
We'll break the bars and rattle the bells
Re-fill the jars with beautiful smells

When the king falls
I'll make the calls that should have been made
I'll light all the lights and lift all the shades
I'll be the one who couldn't be saved

I will be here again,
When the king falls
The hunger disappear again,
When the king falls
I will learn to love again,
When the king falls
We will be alive again,
When the king falls

~ Brendan Bonsack