Intimate Standards

i wrote a story. i don't know how to finish it. it's about a boy who lives in the circus. his parents abandoned him and now he is raised by the lion tamer, who only has one arm. a lion ripped it from him during a show. when he got better, he continued with his job. the boy does not know how the lion tamer can still be doing what he does. it's the only thing he knows how to do, he tells the boy. it's his passion. it's his only true love. the boy does not understand him. with time, the boy grows up to be a young man. he meets a girl. he falls in love. she leaves him, breaking his heart. he goes after her. the lion tamer asks him why he wants to be with her after all the pain she put him through. it's the only thing he knows how to do, answers the young man. the lion tamer does not understand. i don't know how to finish the story.

Sing a Song for the Lepers

you healed me
but what about the rest?
aren't they to feel what i feel?
aren't they to be free from this misery, this torment?
why me? why me? why not them?
who are you?
why so cruel?
torment the poor and save the damned
but only you decide who has the luck of being who

selfish bastard
ungrateful scum
sing a song for the lepers
and let us rot
give me back my sickness
and leave me alone
leave us all alone

"Swear to God" with Reverend Winton Dupree

Lot

i looked in the rearview mirror and saw her body lying on the floor. still i had to turn around, see it with my own eyes, as if i were in a house of mirrors in some dirty carnival, and reality was being distorted for me. but there she was... there it was. her motionless body thrown in the middle of the parking lot. i came to my senses, and started looking around, trying to see if someone noticed anything. i still can't believe there was nobody in sight. a couple of cars in the distance, but something told me there was no one in them. this vast sea of pavement marked by the moonlight, almost hitting her as if it were some kind of spotlight in some decadent theater. she was the main actress alright, but this was my performance of a lifetime.

jenny turned and looked at me, she was as pale as a ghost, and she muttered those words that actually made me realize what i had done. "you killed your wife". there was a cold silence for about a minute, and it seemed like forever. i had to check if she was dead. i had to confirm i did really kill her. i got out of the car, again looking around to see if somebody was there, but no one, not a soul. as i came nearer and nearer i just wondered how a body, a human body, could be placed in that position, and still be alive. i got on my knees and looked at her face. that's when i remembered the blood on the windshield. it was so disfigured and red, it made me realize jenny had told me the truth. i had killed my wife. and without analyzing the consequences, or the almost non existent possibility of me getting away with it, i understood that i was free.

i now sit here in this motel room. jenny has gone - apparently she didn't love me as much as she said she did - and outside the world is waiting for me. but i can't walk out. i can't raise my hands, i can't and will not give in. this freedom that i've showered myself in would be stupidly lost. there's just no point. so what now? it certainly feels like an end. but remember, this is my performance. the spotlight's on me now. ever since that day on that parkling lot, the spotlight shifted from that bitch's gruesome body to me, and it has not cast its light on anything or anyone else since. it's my time. time to look back and taste the flavor of this freedom i've enjoyed. no, it hasn't lasted too long, but it was all worthwhile. i close my eyes, shut my ears from the sirens and the yells, and think.

that meal a couple of days ago. the movie i saw last night. that one time jenny and i made love before she left. that song i hummed this morning while i was shaving. glorious moments bathed in a light of freedom, a freedom i've deserved, a freedom i've gained. no one can take that away fom me. not now.

and as i open the door and run towards them... i hear the sound of a war coming to an end, i hear the sound of liberty frozen forever in time. and in my distant thoughts, deep deep inside of me, i can hear my car and the sound of maggie hitting her face on my windshield.

A Distant Siren

the magic nights are over, but i tremble like a man whenever your face comes into my mind. i always feel like i'm about to crash. my body is always tense. my fingers clenched to thin air. i'm just waiting for that crash. it's like waking up on your first day blind. it's like singing a song not yet written.

the magic nights are over, but i find myself crying in weddings, and laughing in funerals. your hands still grip me as if you're protecting me from myself, but you're miles away... who knows where. you just have to scream and i will find you.

the magic nights are over, but i'm still in love with you. once you've been mine, you will always be mine. i turn around when i think i hear your name. i listen to new songs i imagine you like. i go to restaurants we should have gone to but i never took the time. i buy you gifts, even though they'll never reach your hands.

the magic nights are over, but this bed still smells of you. i should have tried a little harder. i should have been more mature. a distant yell boosts up the siren in me. the fire seems to consume everything around me, but your face still saves me from getting burned.

the magic nights are over, and i still remember the pain. i can stand in front of the sea, and see the things you used to see. it doesn't matter if i don't understand them. i only have to use the words you used to describe them to me, and everything makes sense.

the magic nights are over, and i still try to make myself forget you. i still lie to myself and say i am happy. i still pretend to grow up without you. i still think it will be alright. i still miss you. i still love you. i'm still dead. you can still save me.