The long and narrow hallway
Leads to the door of death
Dark and shadowy pathway
Makes you catch your breath
The handle seems to beg you
Twist my grip and come on in
But something holds you back
Is this miracle or sin?
The draw to cross the threshold
Stems from too many silent nights
Can’t wrap yourself in misery
And no one knows your plight
Stand outside the door
Looking for a sign
Something to keep you moving
Or to the grave resign
Off the beaten path
Where the sweet smell of decay
Wafted up
Towards the slate grey autumn sky
The Traveler kicked the recent living
And newly dead leaves
Across where his sinking footprints had marked
The murky earth below
In a few weeks this evidence would be consumed
And lost forever
As his latest was now
Flaxen hair had gripped the leaves
In moments on the ground
Grasping and clinging long after
The soil settled back over
Where his footprints were erased
They say you are danger
But you patch me up
And course through me in welcomed ways
They say you could kill me
Plastic poison against my skin
Dulling the agony within
They say you are a destroyer
And talk to me of the addicts curse
But I don’t feel that burden of proof
The relief I need and get from you
I only speak of when necessity bleeds
Otherwise they envision you with me
Huddled against some dirty wall
Worthless and cast aside
Begging or pleading for more of you
You tiny plastic man made shame
And the only relief worth a damn
There’s a dusty road to nowhere
Between small towns all the same
Where the Traveler goes wandering
In search of his next game
They never see him coming
Seems to blend within the crowd
Hiding in plain site
Beneath his demon shroud
They live within his terror
Til the mystery runs cold
He waits in patience silent
Til he’s just a story told
He still prowls the shadows
Gossip never tells what’s real
Driving down that dusty road
Searching for a soul to steal
Fragrant hill top hide a way
Just a few short miles from town
Filled with cars and lovers
And summer evening sounds
Children play adult games
Locking lips and losing time
Girls seek to find Romeo
While boys just cross the line
Gravel snaps beneath
The Travelers tires on the prowl
Unaware at make-out point
They can’t hear him howl
He’ll choose a spot that’s dark
Where moonbeams cannot see
Then wait for his signal
As to who his prey will be
It may take all night
But time is on his side
They will never see it coming
Where life and death collide
Midnight passes
Over that small town highway
Like the moment that passes
When death overcomes life
Some kind of morbid tranquility
Engulfs that stretch of road
As the Traveler slithers through
Even the forest feels the shiver
And trees stand still and silent
As if listening for his approach
Listening for the predator
As he creeps along
The car ahead and its occupants
Remain oblivious
To the danger that lurks so close
Caught up in music and laughter
The revelry of youth
A momentary escape of the small town
Restraints
And the Traveler is nothing more
Than an apparition in the dark
Midnight passes
Across the face of the traveler
As it had so many nights before
Sitting in darkness silent
In that car
On that road
Just outside that small town
Mud crusted hands gripped the wheel
Of that old beater
Wind howls around him
And the car sways almost imperceptibly
His image in the rear view mirror
That of a soulless stranger
Awaiting his invitation to the dance
Empty eyes and weathered skin
Just enough character
To let him be ignored and blend
Faceless
Another car approaches and passes
As if he was a phantom near that ditch
Engine starts, muddied hands flex
Heavy foot moves to the pedal
And the game begins again
Piles of neatly folded sheets
Contrast the haphazard toss of dressing
To a wound yet unmade
Landing heavy on the skin
Doused now in orange dye
Table moves in a jerking motion
Side to halting side
Raised and lowered
With the grace of a dancing mule
The body atop shifts and shudders
Awaiting the cold steel sharp
To be poked and maneuvered
Through skin, muscle and cartilage
And stab the nerve within
Deep and achy pain come swiftly
Wafting like an unwelcome wave
Muttering doctors offer little comfort
Like the cold metal table below
Hold your breath and tongue
The sharp will soon withdraw
But the ghost of it remains
Pain to kill the pain
The science of the absurd
Her ink is deeper set
Than her hollow poser soul
Short in stature
And social graces
Cackle laugh too loud to be ironic
Her ink is her past set to skin
Painting her body
With claims of cool
While nothing of substance
Could be found within
Everyday a new tragedy
Or trauma befalls
And she regales trapped cubemates
With her latest tale of woe
Frustrated liquid bubbles up in the cooler
Longs to be flushed
Like her presence should be
Stale cube air
Holds the indifference
Of those who sit and listen
And wade through the shallow
Of her existence
Just a click beyond the dark of midnight
The Traveler emerges in stride
Briskly paced and haunting
Damp streets and fog enrobed autumn eve
Keeping time over flattened dead
Leaves once vibrantly coloured
Now faded brown decaying
Soon to be lost
Down stone gutters through chilled metal grates
Into the bowels below this city of sorrow
His footsteps trample the concrete
Back towards the muddy rivers edge
Through backwoods of secrets untold
Over shallow crypts of forsaken dreamers
Only he has remembrance of
Death comforts him at every turn
Cold like the grave so many now lay within
And deep like the winter snow that threatens to fall
bluefalling 