Wish You Were Here

Here’s the first poem/title track of my new book Wish You were Here.  Enjoy!


I wanted you to hear this.

I wanted to take a second to slow down.
I wanted, I need to take a breath.

See, I wanted you to hear this.

I’ve never comfortably called myself a poet.

Fact is, I never really considered this poetry.
Maybe therapy.
Just honesty set to a rhyme scheme so that when I start to scream
nobody thinks I’m crazy.
I figured, crowds could get caught up in lyrical rhythms,
the kind you feel in you chest,
like a raver wrapped in glow sticks and sex,
chugging water, gnashing E,
and never dreaming of taking a rest.

See, constantly
my hearts out running head,
my head is out running my mouth,
and I’m left trying to figure out how to get ‘em all
on the same page as my fist raised
and I just yell and wish,

all of you.
I wish you were here.
We could sweat out the homesickness.
I swear,
I will kiss you together so hard,
we’ll make the tear gas in Vancouver blush,
and the marching boots murmur ‘Get a room’.
I wish you were here.
I’ll use this mic to crack open my chest,
bust open my skull,
put you all back in your homes.
I know it’s a bit of a wasteland of post‐chemical warfare in there,
but I’ll get superglue, and rubber bands, and duct tape too
and make sure you don’t fall out of your places.
My friends,
I promise I won’t bandage you apart again.”

Funny how alcohol acts as a blood thinner.
It kills the pain, but makes surgery difficult.

I wish you were here.
I wanted you to hear this.
But my mouth is running as fast as it can
‘cause it’s chasing my brain which is running in the opposite direction
chasing my heart beat beating out beats like a humming birds wings
just blurs tracing infinity,
and I’m still trying to make somebody see,
this mess of sounds from my throat avalanche of gravel

is a bit of therapy,
an attempt at honesty,
but I never thought of this as poetry.

I just wish you were here.
We could hold hands if it helps.

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