Radio Transmissions

How do I explain
The significance of white jet trails against the blue/pink sky
Or winter coats blowing in on an autumn breeze?

Aboard an impending train,
Hope is the rumbling whisper
Of what is to come, the electric hum of
Phantom boxcars.

I lean to the ground, listening to
Patterns mapped against radio static, wondering
Why the cat hacked a hairball on my car.

The world rages on, pushed to violence
By men of good intent; in an empty hotel room
I reach out, the sudden need to
Touch something warm.

When everything succumbs to fuzz,
Let’s remember the days when…

Los Angeles

it dies without even knowing it was alive

on sunset drift, the human voices saunter
loudly into night, empty buildings packed with
plastic faces glow naked like
porcelain to catch our eyes, sculpted breasts
and detailed smiles

automatons locked in street-wise yawns to detour
sleek-lined lies made by sultry lips
carving O’s

blowing kisses, one for the road
and one for the home and one for coming back
to the fold, she moves

and smells of sudden seduction ensnared, con-
temptuous. if god were a woman,
so must the devil.

[Original Post Date: 09/12/2003]

Strange White Birds

Between branches, I watch the strange white birds
Dance in the foliage beside the street,
Each curved neck bending time and searching
For the creek that was lost, the foreign trees
That now loom.

Are you a profusion, they ask one another, or
A question without an answer;
Their curved necks punctuate the silence,
Flickering light in the trailing green of where
The sidewalk ends.

Of course, there is no answer, only plumes
Unfurling like a brilliant flower from our behemoth
Civilization; beside a paved road
Two strange white birds move, until with
Startled wings, rise.

Kissed Under The Sun by Boy In Static

we fell in love and kissed under the sun
wrote down the way this ends, and then we kissed again
i hear the sound, the gods can’t scare me now
cause i’m too young to die and already broken inside
a message recorded a year from today
says i’d have called sooner, but forgot your name
i hope it comes against a setting sun
wrote down the things we’ll say, the time, the day, and place
you and i are tortured by design
the way our hearts can break looked beautiful that day
i should be sleepless over you
i should be brokenhearted too
against the sky it slipped my mind
this should be a tragic way to end
endless lines of things i said
in midday sun my face looks young

* * *

Check out Boy In Static’s Myspace page and listen to the song.