PARALLEL UNIVERSE

Sometimes I wonder if there are one million people
           listening at the same time  
           to the same Leonard Cohen song.
           the one that keeps people from killing themselves.
It’s a long playing record
It’s a long song

 Where do people play each other the songs that will keep them standing
            when one foot in front of the other is more myth than practice? 

I once tried to play Beware of Darkness by George Harrison for a friend,
            cause its beauty and pain were singular at that moment and
            I wanted to share
I wanted us to hear as close as we could the same thing and
            make of it what we would 

He said he heard that song when it first came out and ran out 
            to smoke a cigarette
We lost something in that moment 

I listen to music alone, but I imagine there are sharp notes bending the
            backs of the universe into more flexibility, more love,
            more tenderness, more a capella chiropractors 

Somebody is strumming 3 basic chords and 
            somebody will live through the night.

4:30 A.M. 

I was listening to So Long, Marianne with its line about 
            washing my eyelids in the rain,
suddenly I remembered I’d forgotten to use my eye scrub 
            to help my exposed nerve endings. 

Thanks, Leonard Cohen, for your right words at the right time.

THERE’S AN HOUR 

There’s an hour when things just hit. 

These hours come late at night or early in the morning, depending
            if you’re a P.M. owl or A.M. bird. 

When I stay up late, I feel strange the next day, but hell,
            I feel strange the next day no matter what.
I used to stay up till my mom got up for work, we’d chat 
            and she’d go to the rush hour,
            then I’d fall asleep - I didn’t want to be awake during the day
            by myself - just me and my mind.
To feel depressed at night at least is poetic.
To feel depressed during the day is lonely. 

All night I’d tape the radio, catching quick gasps of naps
            while the 45 minute tape wound to zero,
            oodles of wisdom on the ribbon.
Sometimes I’d fall asleep for a few hours
            the play/record button would be up.

 I knew I’d fucked up.
I’m just human. 

Someone taught me how to archive for up to 8 hours in a row - 
            no turning of tapes.
Simple
It was a miracle.
The wonder as I rubbed my eyes.
Maybe I could go to bed earlier. 

Sometimes I wish I could live on only an hour of sleep, and then I realize 
            all the emotions that gnaw at me the between 13 and 15 hours
            I am up per day. 

Man, on twenty-three hours, I’d be really, really, really dysfunctional. 

The night hours have a magic.
Nothing can be taken for granted. 

In the afternoon, people assume a dry cleaners, a bookstore,
            a restaurant, a 99 cent store will be open.
But at night, an open Thai restaurant becomes mythic.
            A news stand; salvation.
            99 cents sits waiting in the pocket.