The Place Where No One Else Goes

I

I went to the place where no one else goes and though it was lonely, that is to be expected. What caught me with my pants down was just how cold emptiness is. So cold I couldn’t tell if I was frozen or burnt or if I just didn’t love all the way anymore.

II

There were echoes so faint that they might have been the laughter of children who didn’t know why, or the cries of the desperate who didn’t know how. There were shadows that disappeared in the light and others that were lost in the dark. There were shadows that were thrown by emptiness.

III

Prisons with bars are the simplest kind.
At least you know what you are up against
Wars with dead bodies make some kind of sense, at least to themselves.
I promised myself
That if I ever
Make my way out of the place where no one else goes
I will do the one thing that I need to do

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Alone

It was about five years ago that I became less involved with the mechanism of life when four of the most important people in mine became more distant, less intimate. It wasn’t all bad. My dearest dreams for two of them came true: he fell in love and became an independent man. She fell in love and became a mommy. But I miss the places all of them held in my life.
For the next couple of weeks I have to get used to the downside of being alone, to a life with nobody waving to me from the window, with no counterweight in conversation, with no aromas of vegetarian masterpieces wafting down the hall to greet me as I step off the elevator. And that litterbox isn’t going to clean itself.
But there are good things too. Nobody tells me I can’t. Nobody tells me I shan’t. No one to say “you’re doing it wrong.”

What am I gonna to do today?

Walk to the newsstand, checkout the war zone
Check the listings, see what’s good on
Oh, there’s one I’ve been wanting to see
Anyone here up for a movie? I am

Nobody tells me I can’t
Nobody tells me I shan’t
No one to say “You’re doing it wrong”
I’m at my best, I’m where I belong
Alone
Yeah, I like it

Now I’m down on the street
Hanging out with the poets and the Greeks and the deadbeats
I’m taking my time, sitting on park benches
All the glamour is right down here
This is where the trends begin
Life’s a canvas and I’m on it

Nobody tells me I can’t
Nobody tells me I shan’t
No one to say “You’re doing it wrong”
I’m at my best, I’m where I belong
Alone
I like it, yeah
I like being alone

And the other thing I like to do
Go to the graveyard and hang out with you
And sit back and have a smoke and practice my autograph
And re-read your epitaph and it says:
“Don’t you laugh as you walk by
For as you are so once was I
And as I am so you shall be
Prepare for death and follow mje”

Alone
I like it
Nobody tells me I can’t
Nobody tells me I shan’t
No one to say “You’re doing it wrong”
I’m at my best, I’m where I belong
Alone
Yeah, I like it
What are you going to do about it, huh?
Absolutely nothing
I’m going to do whatever I well please

My Amputated Love

My amputated love
Still makes small animal noises but now
They’re an unpleasant kind
That wake me up before the sun
Perforate my eardrums
Then whispers words that I can’t hear

My amputated love

Puts on war paint and drinks too much
Of everything, not only booze
Pulls up a barstool next to mine
Asks me to pass the salt
So it can rub it in my open wounds

My amputated love

Submits an invoice for its pain
Won’t accept payment of any kind
Charges exorbitant interest that would
Make a credit card company blush
Then turns me over for collection

My amputated love

Lies next to me and rubs my thigh
Whispers lies into my ear
Rests her head against my chest and
Listens for the echoes where my heart
Used to beat