Chain-Link Fence
Pressed against that chain-link fence,
My hands are searching up your dress,
No keys to your apartment,
Wine-glass still in your hand.
For a while, bury me, Breath as hot as whiskey. Men are cold, but I’m not spent, Pressed against that chain-link fence.
Conversation Piece
but I know you got that pull out couch
And I surprise your friends when I got shit to say about Damien Hirst
And you got those parties where you can trot me out
So go and frame me like a picture
for a crime I can’t commit to
and I’ll be, I’ll be your conversation piece.
They’re so delighted I’m unstable
cowering under your Algonquin round table
I found out a life could be a conversation piece.
She tells me housewives slit their wrists
When it turned out Betty Crocker didn’t exist
Say, what’re you doin’ after this?
Hey you could pass me out like a favour
at a charity ball in your honour
I think I’ve outstayed my welcome here, but I could be
don’t you think I could be your conversation piece.
When you left you set out for the ocean always swimming upstream.
We’d held hands. There was nothing else left to hold on to,
except our breath, but, hey, what’s that worth? What’s that worth to you?
Let’s meet up at the pole where the made up lines form a point.
We’ll shake with sealskin gloves and rub noses with our handsome Inuit guides.
It’s a big world and we leave small tracks.
It’s a big world, thank God for crossed paths.
Small towns have big town limits.
Cities act like they’re infinite.
And the planes the traines the automobiles
tell you nothing’s nipping at your heels.
But the bags, the trunks, the cargo holds
let’s pretend we’re going down ’cause they’re the first to go.
It’s a big world and we leave small tracks.
It’s a big world, thank God for crossed paths.
Thought it was you at the greyhound station going home for Christmas time,
or when I flew way up in the X-ray line.
The more you move and the faster you go, the more you’ll get crossed paths.
We make these arcs ’cause we believe in gravity, we believe nothing lasts.
It’s a big world and we leave small tracks.
It’s a big world, thank God for crossed paths.
He introduced us so I would shut up
She had me over for menthols and cat hair
we went out to see her boyfriend’s meth lab blow up.
Welcome to Invermere, everyone loves it here
Millionaires, billionaires, scum of the earth.
Raven’s at home here ’cause it’s dry as a bone here.
If it weren’t for the meth labs, things could be worse.
When that little desert motel went up like phosphorus strips
I turned to her and I said, “that’s how my heart feels around you, missy,
it goes boomboomboom and I hear sirens and it goes boomboomboom
Ikilledyourcatbyaccidentboomboomboomyourmom’sboyfriend’sashithead
boomboomboomlet’splaynaughtyshoplifterboomboomboomholyshitwhere’d
yougetarealcop’sbadgeboomboomboomifyoufallasleepI’mgonnacutoffyour
dreadlocksboomboomboomonfire?!Idon’thavetimetobeonfire!!boomboomboom
andstop
I’m sick again. Out the window I can still hear the dogs.
I see a darkness in those blue eyes. I can stare it down, but I can’ t ignore it.
If a living man can’t know death, how can I know to head straight for it?
You put that hat on the bed.
When I first met you, you were a car-wreck waiting to happen.
And when we crashed, the flames reached up to the heavens.
We slipped away, and lay down in the grass,
Tended our wounds, as the world went spinning past.
You put that hat on the bed.
I tell you before, I tell you again: this bed we lie in is a bed of sin.
There’s a little truth in all your lies, and the truth hurts so bad that I want to die.
You put that hat on the bed.
light the fuses and roll the cameras
tonight to capture a dance
a rapturous encounter with how we sing a song
In an office of glass and maple
sits a machine doing all the work
while you make context
or excuses; I can’t decide which is worse
now I’m no lover of truth
but ignoring is worse than forgetting your yard
I like dancing, we all like dancing
but can’t you find a use for the whole world
it’s stormy and bright and salty and soft
and it’ll like you back
it’s queer and cavernous
it’s right and rapturous and
it will show you how to sing a song
but that don’t mean that you’re not missed
you and me we can talk some shit
no matter how far my arm may twist
I won’t admit to knocking on your window
or how I smiled when you called me up to take you out
’cause your roommates fuck so loud you couldn’t sleep
so we put on our winter coats and filmed ourselves smoking on the steps
I think by that time we’d quit fucking but not being neighborly
and we still lived in an unknown hood a secret block a hidden street
and it seems to me hard to believe I won’t ever see your messy hair pop up in the window pane again
wa ah ooo I know we fought like tanked up cats and dogs but babe wasn’t that our charm
you know me I can’t admit to knockin’ on your window
and I know you’re living for it all to come true
and that’s why I try to let it go
’cause who am I to say
the truth is worth the time it takes to stop and let go
I see Meathead take a walk with his mom around my city block
to explain why the wedding got called off.
He don’t know, but he’ll give it a shot
’cause they got rights, they go lips, they got
lives to live negotiating terms and conditions
I ain’t easy to forgive, but I ain’t worth the time it takes to hold a grudge
just think, I’m like this with everyone
I got my bullshit I gotta get behind
so who am I to say
a Meathead’s worth a thousand words on a bad day
to a child in Moscow and she fell in love with me.
I told her stories I never told at home
of smoke filled hallways and bruises on the bone.
She sent a picture of her pretty face.
I hid it I forgot it It’s hidden to this day.
I worked with a Russian in an underground club.
He was good at what he did. What he did was no good.
He’d frown when you struggled. He’d smile when you’d give in.
He’d left behind the battles but he’d brought the war with him.
I’d say, “Easy, I don’t think he can take much more.”
His brow was dry. He’d seen much worse before.
My friend when I was a child
had sheep and collies to fight off the wolves.
We kicked a lamb’s head around for the dogs.
The eyes were missing and the dogs were jumping.
I went home to the valley a month ago.
I pulled the books off of my parents’ shelves.
There’s a picture somewhere in this old room
of a girl this might make sense to.
and some medals from the mayor ’cause he thinks that I’m the best.
He’s got a pretty daughter, she can sing like Tanya Tucker.
I’ve more than once proposed, but she thinks that I’m a sucker,
’cause my work’s a little strange,
I’m like a cowhand on the range
but my cows aren’t cows,
they’re much slimier.
Still, I never seem to mind it…
On the octopus farm, the octopus farm,
everybody lends a hand on the octopus farm.
The octopus farm, the octopus farm,
We all shake hands on the octopus farm.
We hire equal opportunity – guys, and gals, and kids.
If you’re a little bitty baby you can take care of a squid.
People think it’s strange, our affection for invertebrates,
but if there’s a creepy crawly creature we don’t like, well we ain’t heard of it
On the octopus farm, the octopus farm,
everybody lends a hand on the octopus farm.
The octopus farm, the octopus farm,
We all shake hands on the octopus farm.
Now octopi are loyal. You can take one for a drink,
and if some fucker tries to start some shit, they’ll fill him full of ink.
But octopi don’t pay well so we went and formed a band,
and if you think it’s worth it you can give us all a hand…
On the octopus farm, the octopus farm,
everybody lends a hand on the octopus farm.
The octopus farm, the octopus farm,
We all shake hands on the octopus farm.
sleepin’ on shingles
outside her window
bed on the floor of
the forest pine needles
wake up to partridge
nauseous find your way home
secret smoker
consists of a rumour
two eyes and two ears and
hearsay and conjecture
bed on the floor of
the ravine the red leaves
matches in a tape case
birds of prey & release
What kind of asshole kids believe that they could write what they see and be believed?
Maybe it wasn’t your heart I broke, but I know something’s broken.
Maybe those piney campsites we’d drink in keep calling back their wayward children.
We drank so much of our desolate love
that we puked our guts in those piney woods.
I thought you’d made my life worth listening to.
I mistook your life for mine. I thought that’s what we do.
I mistook your voice for mine calling me back to messy times.
Walking back through history ’til a path emerged wide enough for you and me.
But you can’t take a life peacefully.
We all get one life & it’s for keeps.
Who wouldn’t want to take their hero in?
But all the food I made was allergens.
We drank so much of our desolate love
that we puked our guts in those piney woods.
I thought you’d made my life worth listening to.
I mistook your life for mine. I thought that’s what we do.
Where the fuck did I put the lyrics sheet?!
Thank God
I am more than happy to be the one to sweep up those broken plates
I am more than happy to be the one to break the silence just to say
Thank God I’m ashamed
Thank God I’m ashamed
I’d grown so tired of laying blame
in place of knowing what to say
I am scraping frost from the windows of a car as it idles and shakes
CBC won’t you say there’s a world out there as broken as our hearts
Thank God I’m ashamed
Thank God I’m ashamed
I wanted to take your side
against my burning pride
I am more than happy to be the one to wait with you for news
would people like us say the things we once said if they thought they could be of some use
thank God I’m ashamed
thank God I’m ashamed
not saintly just for once humane
thank God I’m ashamed
Hall of Records 