Our old uncle, Daedalus,
he'd grin when he spoke to us
His mouth was missing teeth
and so his wisdom flowed out free
He always smelled of cheap cigars
alleyways and corner bars
He'd tell us he had seen the world
and this was his decree:
"Don't fly too high, you little shits.
You just might live to pay for it.
The Sun is always hot,
the ground gets harder every day."
"But, Daedalus," we would complain,
"You are old and we would fain
see the sights you saw before
we sleep beneath the clay."
And dear old Uncle Daedalus
he'd laugh and spit and swear at us
"You fucking little cunts had better
heed the tale I tell.
This life is one big fucking maze
with twists and turns and tricks to play.
The kings control the monsters,
who make Earth a living Hell."
We'd try to listen, try to thank
him for the words, but his breath stank
and, anyway, we thought that he
had prob'ly shit himself
But dear old Uncle Daedalus
hung Death from lips that spoke to us
and damned if he weren't right
about the things he always said:
"Inventiveness works, by and by
with daring, you may taunt the sky
like I did
but the fall is long--
my dreams and son are dead."
He always smelled of cheap cigars
alleyways and corner bars
"You fucking little cunts had better
heed the tale I tell..."
"Don't fly too high, you little shits.
You just might live to pay for it.
The kings control the monsters,
who make Earth a living Hell."
An online repository for the poetry of Kyle Kulseth © 2014-2018 Party Fowl Publishing
Friday, May 16, 2014
Waking Up/Snapping Out
Woke up in a dream under asphalt trees
soaked in the sap of the sweltering city
wearing these old rat rags
and sneering at the concrete
Greyscale mindset stitched into my sleeve
This town'll fuckin' kill ya
and drop a coin on your grave
dig your way up to the daylight
and hang on to your spade
Waking up
Snapping out.
It's not so easy, is it?
Waking up and snapping out...
The barge is afloat on the sidewalk streams
Burns in the summer, fucking doused in Spring
the bums puke in corners
children vomit in the alleys
Sinking hulks. "Abandon ship!" on the galleys
These waves'll fucking kill ya
and pull you down in the deep
this dream ain't worth waking for
But we can't get to sleep.
soaked in the sap of the sweltering city
wearing these old rat rags
and sneering at the concrete
Greyscale mindset stitched into my sleeve
This town'll fuckin' kill ya
and drop a coin on your grave
dig your way up to the daylight
and hang on to your spade
Waking up
Snapping out.
It's not so easy, is it?
Waking up and snapping out...
The barge is afloat on the sidewalk streams
Burns in the summer, fucking doused in Spring
the bums puke in corners
children vomit in the alleys
Sinking hulks. "Abandon ship!" on the galleys
These waves'll fucking kill ya
and pull you down in the deep
this dream ain't worth waking for
But we can't get to sleep.
Monday, May 12, 2014
Always Summer Bed & Breakfast
A day recedes,
I'll chase down one more night
A lamed and hobbling Spring
tries to outrun the tide
of all the misspent months
and all this wasted time
The northern breeze sings cold,
it sighs through tattered topsails
sea of questions waits.
schools of unanswered voicemails
My footfalls share the sidewalks,
steady,
sure. Still young but glimpsing old and stumbling
Walking outside
soaked lungs need some new air
I'm nervous and shaking
fold the map, don a blank stare
my days wearing on
fill 'em up with a fool's words
I'm saltwashed, stuck and
peeling paint off my memory
for now.
A day's been seized--
a metered length of life
Can't place a price on Fall
and can't outrun the tide
of these layered seasons
as his time unwinds
The eastern wind comes hard
and shreds through mended mainsails
river of answers dried
so ask the waving cattails.
His footfalls know the sidewalks
leaking
down sidestreets' asphalt tributaries
Walking around
A hitch in his slow gait
A ghost of our town
shuffles on with a fixed gaze,
his days playing out,
As he strides down the sidewalks
his life plays a film,
flashing bright on glazed eyeballs
And I'm southbound,
4 p.m. driving Orange Street
completely drowned--
--swore I woke up in Gimli,
Manitoba January
seared into my youthful memories
I'm freezerburnt
Autumn heat, don't leave me
I'll hold your hair if you're feeling sickly,
then drive back home.
Autumn heat, don't leave me now.
...Autumn heat, don't leave me now.
I'll chase down one more night
A lamed and hobbling Spring
tries to outrun the tide
of all the misspent months
and all this wasted time
The northern breeze sings cold,
it sighs through tattered topsails
sea of questions waits.
schools of unanswered voicemails
My footfalls share the sidewalks,
steady,
sure. Still young but glimpsing old and stumbling
Walking outside
soaked lungs need some new air
I'm nervous and shaking
fold the map, don a blank stare
my days wearing on
fill 'em up with a fool's words
I'm saltwashed, stuck and
peeling paint off my memory
for now.
A day's been seized--
a metered length of life
Can't place a price on Fall
and can't outrun the tide
of these layered seasons
as his time unwinds
The eastern wind comes hard
and shreds through mended mainsails
river of answers dried
so ask the waving cattails.
His footfalls know the sidewalks
leaking
down sidestreets' asphalt tributaries
Walking around
A hitch in his slow gait
A ghost of our town
shuffles on with a fixed gaze,
his days playing out,
As he strides down the sidewalks
his life plays a film,
flashing bright on glazed eyeballs
And I'm southbound,
4 p.m. driving Orange Street
completely drowned--
--swore I woke up in Gimli,
Manitoba January
seared into my youthful memories
I'm freezerburnt
Autumn heat, don't leave me
I'll hold your hair if you're feeling sickly,
then drive back home.
Autumn heat, don't leave me now.
...Autumn heat, don't leave me now.
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