The Back-Lot World

I still crackle

Like a motel

Frontier spackle/ summer backyard

Shopping cart

In our shadows

Late-day echoes

Weeds/ radios/ Jesus Christ knows your

Freckled heart



To walk North as sun is setting

Hope of getting to

Your ghost-filled brimming field as

The still comes

All those churches

Splint'ring perches

Blacktown searches/ stooping faces

Placing childhoods



It's a hot-town

Steam from the ground

Roads are unbound/ heart-strung and crowned

Through the lumbered trees

I killed a woman

She had it coming

She was myself and now I am free



Free to love you

You unspooling

When day is cooling rain clouds coming

Are lighter than the night

All is something

Lost in nothing

Your grav'lly wiry fright'ning mind is

Built upon itself



We walk through the Back-Lot World

To the pi-o-neer frontier where you forgot dear

Nights you should hold