By Kevin (kev@tnw.org)
Date: 8 November 1998

heart and hand

it was a thrilling era
keys a-jingley
lots of red faces as the eggs go in first
jerks not caring
bosses with bad hair days year-round
a grin on my face, a jump in my step
no point at all to my life
except doing my work well and
hoping for magic to happen
full heart
empty hand.

it was november
probably raining, or snowing
(or wintry mix)
no doubt it was 41 degrees in the sun
me living across the street from your late-nite laundry
in a borrowed room in which I often barracaded myself
in search of perfect posture
or inner enlightenment
or a computer that would soon boot.

the phone would ring
(a sure sign that the computer was not working)
and there would be a strange person I had just recently taught
the pleasures and perils of a grocers life
i'd be making a sorry-ass excuse
until a break time mishap
and something involving animal crackers
and something else that did not involve animal crackers

it took some prodding (no reference to cattle intended)
but I came around
and it was all very strange
and november became december
and magic did happen
full heart
open hand.

so what does one man do with himself at 4 am,
you know he doesn't sleep
for that would make a boring tale
and sometimes magic keeps you up at night
frequent stair climbing
sometimes counted
sometimes a rucus
sometimes a wave at the window that put off cold
better than any coat
sometimes a makeshift bed made out of tadpoles
and eucalyptous leaves
(okay, seat cushions)
and something starts seeping from that full heart
hand in hand.

in the spirit of the holidays
a pickax, a blowtorch, a flatbed truck of bricks
spelling it out for me
somehow it caught up with me that
just because we were perfect for each other
didn't mean we should stay apart.

so "what did it entail"
and "could it be that different"
and a winter of 6:30s
january, february, march
(fair season for shelter)
and it did entail something after all
and "not that different" got different
and somewhere between register #2
and the mediterranean sea
i love you
and like the grinch of yore
it grew three sizes that day
big heart
hand in hand.

this is a happy story so no need to mention
some stuff here and there, stars or fate
convictions or fears
a few travels too far,
need only say the grocery part stopped
and some other stuff did
but hearts don't shrink
regardless of what the hands may have in them
and though the neon "vacancy" sign might blink
above my heart motel
(okay that's cheesy)
there's always a room
for a sweet little brown-eyed girl
who loves ice cream and books
and hugs all the night;
heart always open,
hand always there.