I can't look at anything anymore

I see a post on facebook
about how your life should be graded an A
but I don't know what it said
because I had to look away
seems I can't look at anything anymore

My friend Matt came over

Hey, you up, man?

I guess I am now.

Sorry.

I was going to get up soon anyway. You doing all right, farmboy? This is unusual for you to call so early.

Ah, man, I just need someone to talk to.

Well, you got me. I'm here. whatcha thinking?

I'm thinking I'm sad and I don't know why.

You need human contact, farmboy.

My friend Matt came over. He grew weed this year, brought me some. He is such a good, good person. He calls up to check up on me 'cause he knows I've been all kinds of fucked-up emotionally.

So Matt's your friend?

Yeah.

Let me hear you say it.

"Matt's my friend."

Good job, farmboy. You know, I've talked with Matt. He likes you a lot. There's a reason why he checks up on you.

Yeah. It's weird, it's like being in some kind of time machine. It's like I'm the screwed-up 14-year-old who's confused and sad. And Matt, he's like the older brother back home on break during his sophomore year in college. And he comes in my room and listens to me and talks to me when no one else notices that I exist.

Wow. That's a great friend.

That's Matt. He's my friend, man.

when it's peaceful

when it's peaceful
I'm suspicious
I don't think of peace
as something I can trust
I think peace may
be ficticious
spreading lies and rumors
and reeking of disgust

when it's peaceful
I go hiding
looking hard for some place
where I never will be seen
peace, to me,
is like alunimum siding
something someone wants to sell you
that no one really needs

          someone make a racket
          someone start a ruckus
          someone call the media right now
          instead of all this peace and quiet
          won't somebody start a riot
          louder than the neighbors will allow

when it's peaceful
I get nervous
I'm so afraid
that we're all gonna get along
when it's peaceful
all my old fears
resurface
I knew we were in trouble all along
I'm only happy
when everything goes wrong

having conversations

I'm always dreaming about
having conversations
with people I'd like to know
I'm not talking big celebrities
or heads of first-world nations
I'm talking 'bout your local so-and-so's
people just like you
I pretend we're really friends

and we talk about the things 
that really matter in our lives
we know each other
we share a bond
sometimes I see them on the sidewalk
and I want to meet their eyes
and say hey, what's going on
I'm taking 'bout 
neighborhood strangers
I pretend we're really friends

          and real life goes on
          in that way that real life does
          with its sorry-ass excuses
          and endless  sighs of "just because"
          I escape into a friendship
          that never really was
          and never will be

so if I avert your eyes
we're only having conversations
you won't believe how fascinating you are
with your views on global politics
and survival situations
I am thinking someday you'll go far
you're another person I wish I knew
I pretend we're really friends

timing

I got my timing all wrong
I should have been born
a few decades later
when the effects
of psychiatric medications
were greater
I'd throw all those fuckin' feelings
in an old incinerator
and watch them burn, burn, burn

I got my timing all wrong
I should have been born
when schools were less frantic
when the only things that would
throw administrations in a panic
we're students coming in
who were African-American or Hispanic
here to learn, learn, learn

          you gotta grease that squeaky wheel
          strike when the iron's hot
          you got to give it everything you can
          with everything you're not

I got my timing all wrong
I should've taken every drug
I could in high school
maybe then 
someone might have noticed me
but nobody knew
nobody knew
I was invisible then
now I'm trying something new
this court's adjourned, adjourned
but I'm still the one that's guilty

to every season...

and a time for every purpose

for my pal John Prine

(to the tune of Angel from Montgomery)

I am an old man
named after my father
but why should I bother
'cause John Prine wrote this song
if I knew Johnny
I'd treat him to tamales
drink beer till we got jolly
and we'd be best buds all life long

          give me the talent
          to write a John Prine song
          give me some humor
          and a a folk music hit
          just give me one song
          but don't play that farmboy
          to be honest, his music
          is just a whole crock of shit

I got beat up bad

Sorry I haven't been around much, man. I was busy working my way up to either a lobotomy or an exorcism.

Rough couple days, farmboy?

Oh, man, like you wouldn't fuckin' believe, I haven't processed what's happened the last few days. I'm not sure what is "processed" really means, but I hear it all the fuckin' time. But, yeah, it's been rough. I been beat up bad this time, man. Mental illness took me out behind the garage and used the strap on my brown Mexican ass. The fuckin' strap, man. To this day I have problems looking at belts, even in stores.Then it got me to the ground and started throwin' punches, man. Started kicking my ribs. Mental illness hates me, man. Mental illness hates me bad.

(gently, almost fatherly) I know, farmboy, I know. But this will get better. I promise you.
You'll be fine, farmboy. You'll be fine.

Man, sometimes I just need to hear that.You don't know.