rainbows in the desert sand

god help me
to be hopeful
in a hopeless land
god grant me
the ability
to want to understand
all the world below me
fades like rainbows
in the desert sand
here I am

Walter White and Jesse and Skylar

Bad day, man. Awful fuckin' day. All I do is worry and feel bad because of the mess I've made of my life.

So what I'm doing is watching the entire run of Breaking Bad. Starting from the beginning, man. Walter White and Jesse and Skylar.

Don't forget Saul Goodman. He's my favorite character.

So you're watching the show too?

I've seen it up to this last part. I haven't started the new ones yet.

I won't tell you nothing, then. It's good. I just don't want to spoil it for you.

Thanks, farmboy. I appreciate that.

Great fuckin' show, man, don't ya think? But you know what concerns me?

What's that, farmboy?

I can relate to Walter White a little too much. You know, he just kinda reached his limit and "woke up," as he put it. Then he became Heisenberg eventually and caused nothing but hurt and trouble and death.

But you know what? It's fiction. And it's fuckin' great, man.

brownie haiku

just ate a brownie
waiting for it to take hold
more than just chocolate

I can understand sadness

I'm so depressed. I've got money problems, no weed, summer break is over. There are prescriptions I need to buy, debts I need to pay, and I don't know what I'm gonna do. I can't borrow money from anybody and I don't know how I would pay it back if I could. I don't feel like writing. I don't feel like doing anything except getting high and buying groceries. And neither one of those is gonna happen any time soon.

You could get lucky, farmboy.

I doubt it, I really do. I don't feel like getting into self-pity though. Thankfully. Self-pity would just make everything worse. It's pretty useless, self-pity is. I mean, I can see depression. I can understand sadness, believe me. 

I just feel so fuckin' tired.

How are you sleeping?

Okay, I guess. I sleep way too much these days.

How much money do you need, farmboy?

About five hundred, six hundred. 

That's...a bit of money.

Don't I fuckin' know it. I don't need to think about it. I've thought about it way too fuckin' much, man. 

Anyway, that's what's going on. Sorry.

Don't be sorry. I'm here to listen, farmboy.

Thanks, man. I'm tired of listening to myself.

wish I was here, first draft

I woke up this morning 

thinkin' ‘bout the night before

I daydream about my future 

all day at the company store

but when it comes to the present

what can I say?

I don't see it till it's gone away

I'm having a good time

wish I was here

I'm writing my memoirs 

as fast as I can

I’m hoping tomorrow 

comes off as I planned

I'm so torn between hope and memory

I don't see what’s in front of me

guess I’m having a good time

wish I was here

      gotta network, make connections 

for the jobs to come

      anything that means 

looking out for number one

      gotta go, gotta run, 

ain't got no time to speak

      I got to work to pay 

for what I spent last week

first I saw my therapist, 

we explored my childhood

then my financial planner who said

"boy, your future's no damn good

it says right here 

beyond a shadow of a doubt

you need a lot more cash 

in your bank account

oh, I'm having a time

wish I was here

      well, I'm telling you true, 

my sisters and bros,

      maybe I’m spiting my face 

by cutting off my nose

      but I'm beginning to think

it makes no sense

      some day I'll live in 

the present tense

when I finally arrive 

at St. Peter's gate

I'll have to say

"hey Pete -- man, you made a mistake

I can't be dead yet, 

no, not today

I’ll pencil you in for next week 

would that be okay?

hope I’m having a good time

I wish I was

having a good time

just because

having a real good time

wish I was here

wish I was here 6

when I finally arrive
at St. Peter's gate
I'll have to say
"hey Pete -- man, you made a mistake 
I can't be dead yet
not today
but I can pencil you in
would that be okay?
believe me, when I have to work
I wish I was here

I need some new blood

So I've been writing this new song, man...

That's good news.

Yeah, I suppose it is. It's probably always good to be working on something, you know, instead of just fuckin' waiting all the time for inspiration to strike.

I love that terminology. "Strike."

I know, right? It's like lightning. It's violent and you can't do anything about it. And, I dunno, I think inspiration could be like that sometimes, but you gotta be careful not to romanticize creativity in general. It's dramatic enough as it is, you don't need to...embellish it.

Creativity is certainly a mystery, though. I just want to do it justice when I talk about it. And I want to do it more than I want to talk about it.

Tell me about your new song, farmboy.

Well, I've been writing a verse a day, or close to every day. I'm gonna do this until it plays out. At certain points I'll look over things and rewrite and edit.

This is an experiment. It may not be any good, or it may be good, I don't don't know. It may not be the right process for this song. We'll see, right?

Right. I'm looking forward to hearing this new song, farmboy.

Me too. I need some new blood. You know, new songs to sing. I wanna be really fuckin' good, man. I mean, I'm fuckin' hungry for it, to show myself and others that I have just as much a right to be in that songwriting world as others.

I'm not sure what you mean...

I'm not sure what I mean, either. So let's just say I want to write the best songs I can and I want them to be fuckin' great. (laughs)  That's all I ask for, man. 

wish I was here bridge 1

well, I'm telling you true
my sisters and bros
I'm spiting my face
by cutting off my nose
I'm beginning to think
it makes no sense
this never living
in the present tense

wish I was here 5

every time I think of stopping
so I can catch my breath
I remember I'm one second
closer to my death
and then I remember
way back fuckin' when
and I'm sad 'cause I'll never
see that again
I'm having some kind of time
wish I was here

wish I was here 4

gotta network
make connections
for the jobs to come
anything that means
looking out for number one
gotta go
ain't got time to speak
I got to work to pay off
what I did last week
man, I gotta tell you
I don't know where the fuck I am

summer is fading

it's only august
but the air smells like october
summer is fading

slowly, a martyr
for you
for remembering
in times of darkness

when you need it most
when daylight saving time fails
and the wind shivers

you'll recall summer
with its wide-open windows
and early mornings

and be satisfied
knowing it will someday return
and you'll go barefoot
again,
once more

wish I was here 3

first I saw my therapist
we explored my childhood
then my financial planner
who said 
"boy, your future's no damn good
it says right here
beyond a shadow of a doubt
you need a lot more cash
in your bank account
oh, I'm having a time
wish I was here

wish I was here 2

I'm taking pictures
as fast as I can
where I am going 
I try to understand
I'm stuck between hope
and memory
I don't see the world 
in front of me
having a good time
wish I was here

Nectarines and watermelon

The summer is coming to a fuckin' end. I don't want to talk about it.

So why did you bring it up, farmboy?

I just thought I should acknowledge it. I don't know why. But now that I have let's move on to happier stuff.

Such as?

Um...well, damn, I don't know. Isn't that your job?

No. My job is asking you questions. When you let me, that is.

What's that supposed to mean?

Nothing. So, moving on to happier things...

Oh, man, I don't know. I guess having over a week left till work starts is sorta happy.

That's right. Sleeping late, playing guitar.

Eating nectarines and watermelon. I fuckin' love summer, man. I just want it to drag on a much as it possibly can.

You've got over a week, farmboy.

Well, as long as I don't spend it worrying about money I'll be fine.

deep coffee

world outside my door
paid no attention to me
I just lived my life

as if the world
didn't even matter much
in my apartment

there are books to read
hands to pick up the guitar
strings to meet fingers

deep coffee to drink 
today I try to be at peace
I pray that it works

wish I was here

I wake up in the morning
thinkin' on the good times before
I fall asleep in the evening
dreamin' what the future has in store
but when it comes to the present
what can I say?
I don't see it till it's gone away
I'm having a good time
wish I was here

If I don't write

I don't fuckin' feel like writing today, man.

So take the day off, farmboy.

Really? I can do that?

It's your decision, farmboy. You can have a day where you don't write.

But then how am I gonna get any better at writing if I don't write? I don't want to be one of those people who call himself a writer but never writes. I want to be a songwriter, and a good songwriter at that. But I seriously doubt that it'll happen if I don't write.

So write.

I don't feel like it.

Suit yourself.

That's what I'm doing,man.

out of words

today I am out of words
I have sounds
but they don't mean anything
I don't care about meaning
about nouns and verbs
or prepositional phrases

I want silence
and I want it
now

Sue

I got a girl
her name is Sue
and she knows
exactly what to do
she sits on my lap
and touches my cheek
and, man, I'm excited
for a whole fuckin' week
I love my Sue
I love my Sue
Sue loves me too

Waiting

So it's Sunday, the day that I'm supposed to meet my friend to buy some weed. But my friend's not home or not answering the fuckin' phone. Fuck.

You'll be okay, farmboy.

I know. I'm just disappointed, man. You know how you wait for something that's supposed to come and it's doesn't and then it;'s basically "wait more?"

I hate that. That's disappointment.

That's me right now, man. Fuck. I fuckin' hate waiting by the fuckin' phone all day and then nothing comes of it. Fuck.

You're angry.

It doesn't matter what I am, man. It's just one more of a long string of disappointments all in a row lately. I'm the fuckin' poster child for disappointment these days. 

So it doesn't fuckin' matter. Fuck.

Just wait, farmboy.

That's all I ever fuckin' do! That's what it'll fuckin' say on my tombstone: HE WAS GOOD AT WAITING. What's my secret? Lots of fuckin' practice, man. Want to go to a family reunion? Wait till next year. Want somebody to notice your music? Just wait, it'll come. Want to not be alone? Want to do better financially? 

Well, fuck this shit, man. Thanks for your ears. I'm gonna go back to waiting now. It's the only fuckin' thing I've ever been a success at. Not that anyone notices.

I need to be alone for a little while, man. Hope you understand.

I'll call you tomorrow, farmboy.

I should be around. Waiting.

the banana bread song

(to the tune of "The Banana Boat Song"
with respect and apologies to Harry Belafonte)

day old!
day old!
hunger come
and I wanna eat bread

can't afford to buy the groceries
       (hunger come
        and I wanna eat bread)
my stomach, 
it needs something sweet
       (hunger come
        and I wanna eat bread)
so I head right straight to clearance
      (hunger come
       and I wanna eat bread)
and this is what I buy to eat...
   
day old!...

hey all my countrymen
help Barack Obama
       (hunger come
        and I wanna eat bread)
hey let's legalize
all this marijuana
       (hunger come
        and I wanna eat bread)
global warming
makes this place feel like a sauna
       (hunger come
        and I wanna eat bread)
so I need some bread 
of sweet banana
     
day old!...

saint cecilia

My stupidity and my bad luck 
are working hand-in-hand
to make absolutely sure that
nothing turns out like I planned
the reasons for my misfortune
I just can't understand
and I don't know what I can do about it

charlotte

blue eyed child with down's
ukulele in her hands
can't keep from singing

in the hospital
to receive someone else's heart
today she's touching mine

with her true spirit
joy inside music making
from her heart to mine

I'm thinking maybe I'm having 
some kind of a heart transplant
as well

I can't fuckin' win for losing

I am so depressed.

Again? You were depressed the last time we talked, farmboy. Are you off your medication?

Uh...In a way, yes, I'm, off my fuckin' medication.

Meaning...?

I'm out of weed. I've been out for over a week and I'm just sad all the fuckin' time. Which, I know, means that I'm fuckin' psychologically addicted.

That's true.

I fuckin' know it's true. And it's okay. That's the way it is. But I still want some weed. I wish somebody would just hand me a joint and then I'll go without smoking till Sunday, which is the day I can get some more.

But let me tell you, man, life is good and bad. I've been playing and singing and making some money and seeing friends, which is good. I went to that amazing songwriting camp.  But I'm also not going to my family reunion, which bums me out beyond belief, and I don't have any weed to help me relax.

Fuck.

This is temporary, farmboy.

Life is temporary, man. But I know what you mean. But sometimes I lose hope, like I'll always be poor and I'll never get the main thing I want, which is to be a full-time musician. The constant money problems, man...

That's got to be tiring. Ever since I've known you, you've always had financial worries. You must be exhausted.

I am. I can't fuckin' win for losing, man. You know this. Things are okay, the fuckin' insurance company raises their rates so more money is taken out of my paycheck. Everything goes up, everything. Except, of course, my salary, which goes down.

Do me a favor, okay?

Sure. What?

Let me enter self-pity/victim mode. Just for a minute. 

Go ahead. Just as long as you're aware of it.

Thanks.

I feel like it's always gonna be hard. I feel like I'm just powerless. Which I'm not, I know, but I'm getting so fuckin' sick of feeling that way. I feel like nobody's ever gonna hear my music or care about my music. I feel like I'm fuckin' doing everything in vain, and that I'm just one step away from disaster. I feel like I have to constantly be on guard.

I feel like I'm always gonna be alone. I don't mean I have to get married or something stupid like that. But, fuck, I would like to not have to be so fuckin' alone all the time. I wish I knew people I could see that I could go out and have fun with. But you know the moment that happens that I'm only gonna isolate myself again.

And music. I fuckin' love music, but man, I need to have some successes in writing. I'm not talking external successes like money and gigs and fans (though that would be nice too, believe me). I'm talking writing some songs that I actually like instead of just working on it all the fuckin' time. I write every fuckin' day, I play every day. I fuckin' work at this stuff. This is my fuckin' life, man. Can't I create something that I like.

So, weed. I feel like I'm a pressure cooker about to blow up, and just one night of smoking weed would help alleviate a lot of that pressure. I feel like I'd be able to fuckin' breathe, man.
But I don't have any and I don't have the money anyway and blah blah blah.

Okay, I'm finished, I'm out of it. Thanks for listening.

Any time, farmboy. Now, let me ask you a question: How are you, right now?

Fuckin' miserable, man. I am a very unhappy guy. I've been unhappy for a long time. I keep trying to get out of it, I really do. But, fuck, I feel like a fuckin' mouse in a maze that keeps running into brick walls.

Basically, I've been depressed for the past twelve years. Seriously. There are little spots of happiness but mainly I'm just fuckin' depressed.

You know, I heard last week from somewhere that the problem with depression is that you don't see the good stuff, you only see the bad. And that's true with me a lot of the time. But I know the good exists. I have friends, I have music, I have a roof over my head, family. But I'm just always depressed. I take the pills and they help me function, but shit....

Anyway, seriously, thanks for listening, man. I'm thankful for you, too.

Sure, farmboy. I wish I could help more.

Yeah? I just wish you had some weed. Just a little, for tonight.

unemployment line, rewrite 1

this is what I do

this is how the day begins

I get up out of bed

and I go back in again

in time I make the coffee

wait for the mail to come

worry about the rent

feel like a bum

don't matter what I do

I'm always left behind  

don't matter where I go

it's the unemployment line

fill out applications

update the resume

ignore the rejections

but they just won't go away

climbing through the classifieds

crying through craigslist

think of opportunities

that just won't come

or that I've missed

tell myself that all good things

will come to me in time

but I know that I'm just lying

in the unemployment line

         patron saint of all lost causes

         I could use you now

         I need all the intervention

         heaven will allow

all those soul-sucking jobs

I'd be glad for one today

one with health insurance

and maybe halfway decent pay

but nobody can pay me back

for all the time I've lost

my disappearing confidence

has more than paid the cost

and I am paying dearly

for the economy’s decline

it's just another day

in the unemployment line

it's just another day...

Buck you, fuddy

Man, I fuckin' tell you, I'm just good-fer-nuthin' today. I've, like, accomplished hardly any of the stuff I'm supposed to do.

Such as?

Well, the big three, you know. Exercising, writing, and playing. I've played one song on guitar, and that's the way it's kinda been for the last few days. I mean, it's been more than one song a day, but still...

Writing? 

I've been writing, doing the daily writing. That's been very little trouble. It's just today that I haven't written much.

Oh no, farmboy! One entire day with no writing!

You're being a fuckin' smart-ass, aren't you?

Of course.

You're good at it, man.

Well, I learned from the best. (The interviewer looks at farmboy)

Yeah, well, buck you, fuddy.

What I was saying, before I was so fuckin' rudely interrupted, was how little I've done today.

Did you exercise, farmboy? It seems like it might be too hot for that today.

Yeah, it is too hot. So no exercise. But I don't feel too bad about it, 'cause it's so hot.

I've spent today on the computer. I've found some great, lengthy, in-depth interviews with Joni Mitchell and Louis C.K. that were super educational. 

That sounds like quite a pair, Joni and Louis.

Hey, don't go around saying shit about Louis C.K. He's Mexican, you know. He has dual citizenship.

I bet Joni Mitchell has that, too.

I'm sure she does. But she never returns my calls.

Funny guy, you are.

They really were great interviews, though. I learned a whole lot.

I've been doing some cleaning today. My apartment's a fuckin' mess. So that's been good. I did a little bit of cooking, too.

So your day wasn't a complete waste of time.

Well, man...I guess it wasn't, no.

what are you going to do with the rest of your day?

I'm gonna play some guitar. Starting right now.

Woody Guthrie said

I know Woody Guthrie said it
but I'm gonna say it again:
some will rob you with a six-gun
and some with a fountain pen

quarter in the jukebox 2

love puts a quarter in the jukebox
and plays a sad, sad song
love puts an arm around your shoulder
and asks if you want to sing along
love's got George Jones and Tammy
harmonizing with Gram and Emmylou
backed up by Doc and Merle Watson
love knows exactly what to do
it's true
love drops a quarter in the jukebox
love is looking after you

damage I can do

I will never accept myself
the way that I am
I don't give a damn
what anyone thinks
'cause I know my disease
I always want more
but all that's in store
is another drink

let me pretend
that I'm somebody else
someone with a future
someone who is
not myself
I can do it, I know
I will follow it through
I will show you
the damage I can do

you don't have to worry
you're not in danger
neither friends or strangers
should show any concern
'cause I know my victim
he's got nothing to lose
he stands in my shoes
and refuses to learn

let me pretend
that I'm normal inside
that I don't need to panic
I don't need to 
run and hide
I can do it, I know
what I'm getting into
I will show you
the damage I can do

     I know it's not fair 
     but you can be my witness
     all I ask in return
     is your forgiveness
     
should I draw you a picture?
should I write a letter?
I won't feel better
till I disappear
and if anyone's looking
they won't know where to find me
I'll leave you behind me
and I won't be here

let me pretend
that I don't need your help
that I'm perfectly fine
that I can take
care of myself
I can do it, I know
there's nothing to hang on to
I will show you
the damage I can do
I will show you
the damage I can do

and sometimes I think

sometimes I think
I have too much history
I've been sorting through it
all my life
drawers and closets
hide-a-way corners

and sometimes I think
I understand
I need to get away from myself
but wherever I go
my history demands 
the passenger seat

and sometimes I think
I just need to sleep
for a long, long time