Tunnel to the Sky
Time heals
then we fuck-up again.
Someone leaves
the motor running.
Someone bolts
the garage door.
Someone falls asleep
where she shouldn’t.
Shot down,
betrayed,
stuck like this.
No light,
no tunnel
to the sky.
With wine
you waltz around it.
With wings
you’d show them all.
With anyone
you’d dance another spin.
Time to heal.
Time to try.
Time to fuck-up again.
Tell me:
Have you ever felt
less loved?
Page from Spruce Valley
A backyard mourning dove
puffing for its mate
the feathered pitch
of April’s plaintive coo.
With Janet’s Ghost
The sun’s still there
in the morning
& the stars shine
every night.
Just a little more lonely
& stuffed with regret.
Stuck here
stoned & motherless.
Hitched
to a cold blue globe.
Riding what’s there.
Seeking an orbit
less cruel.
Too Many Cigars
& i’m puking
too many beers
& i’m down
on the floor
too many lies
& I'm leaving
too many times
these wet streets
the slammed door.
To be a Poet in America
Is to drink excessively
word-fuck with anyone
even extrememly intelligent
people.
Forsake smoky jazz
bearded tradition.
Squat in the basement
hiding
from the guns.
The Heart Endures
( for Jen Perks )
Jen, it's four days after
the 4th of July
& i'm over the hump
of this summer thing
& i'm wondering if you'll
meet me for a drink?
i remember a night
you were beautiful
in the barroom light:
baseball cap & ponytail,
cigarette & sneer.
Some asshole feeding
the jukebox.
Tom Petty
the best we got.
But wee braced the bar
& bled the light
because the heart endures
all bullshit,
the heart endures
right through the final beat.
Winter afternoons
pushing your Mitsubishi.
That hot greasy Friday
i failed to fix your flat.
Lunchtime emergencies.
Holy half-moon nights.
Lakes & rivers & reservoirs
of beer. Hey Jen, it's another Friday
& i don't feel like working.
Hey Jen, you got something
i can try? Let's push past the alley,
past the big world,
past the sky!
i'll fix that flat.
i'll drive anytime.
Crows on the wing
now dropping
---murder in the snow
Tunnel To the Sky poems available for a stamp & an envelope.
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mailto:
Bart Solarcyzk
126 Spruce Court
Pittsburgh, PA 15229
blues
by bart solarczyk
