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A FRASER FORSYTH

FROM PRAISE GOD





DENNIS MCGEE


Have you ever watched the sun come up

On the first day of trout season?

Have you danced with your love

The happy one-step?

Do you remember the smell of the corn fields

October, at night, under the glare of the combine?

Were you there on decoration day

When the roof came off the place?

Claudine got happy that day, ran the pews

We were all born again

Can you hear the songs we sang, in the hallway between classes?

In the old meeting house that got moved when they built the dam?

Stone by stone, timber by timber

And laboriously reconsecrated?

Have you ever driven a car, in a matter of days, from your home

To some place you’ve never been before?

The alien landscapes of the west?

Warm beer and pills, Waylon Jennings and a piss jug?

You know how it is when the second line gets under the bridge?

It’s like that

YEEEEE-HOOOOO





I AM IN LOVE WITH A CITY


I am in love with a city

And a beautiful human being

It is there, and so is she

And here I am, bent at my hips

In the mud

Rain pouring up my raincoat

From the waist

Boots soaked

Trying my damndest to get a hold of some

Plant

That I don't even know the fucking name of

They eat it on, I don't know

Little subway tiles, where they serve

Miniature pollocks and kandinskys

Everyone slaps the head honcho on the back

All over blogs

People read, because

They lack the common decency required

To just ignore that kind of thing

I wish that I could commiserate with my

Compañeros

But I am dull-witted and slow, a small man of

Languid gestures

Clumsy hands

Goofy ideas

I do not speak their language very well, because

I am poor at learning, and often preoccupied

With questions

Such as the one just

Hinted at

Above





JUST LIKE HUCK FINN'S CABIN


It doesn’t matter

As long as I’m not unfriendly

I’ll drink my beer and go to sleep when I feel like it

Kinda the way Huck Finn did, on that ill-fated visit

With his Pa

Cuz I’ve got these little ideas that I’m working on

Shit to write down

And maybe we weren’t, after all, in on the same joke

But I’m still laughing

And you always keep loving everyone

For now is the brief hour of love

And every once in a while

The laughter isn't bitter at all





13 BEERS AND A SEROQUEL


I might as well just lie down here

I don’t believe I’ll get any better sleep anywhere else

Might as well just close my eyes right here, in my boots and belt

No use in turning out the lights, I’m afraid of the dark

I’ll wear the same clothes tomorrow

When I do make it to bed, disrobed and dim, sweating like a horse

I don’t often fall asleep these days

These nights, I don’t dream, just talk to myself

Does the rest help?

What is your bedtime routine?

I’m a 13 beers and a seroquel man myself

Can’t see the use in climbing into bed alone


A FRASER FORSYTH is a singer and a christian. A dying boy born in Pennsylvania.

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