January 1, 2016 100 Catherine Avenue (‘Round Here)

100 Catherine Avenue ('Round Here)

I turn my collar and step out into the night

feeling my bones and the shivering timbers

As the wind whistles through my soul

And the shrouds start their singing

reaching a screaming high-pitched howl.

At night they come ‘round like clockwork

gather and circle ‘round my bed.

I cannot make out the conversation

For the ringing in my head.

‘round here, the night is very long

She came searching for a reason

And cradled gently in my arms

I chased away the demons

And filled her full of joy and hope.

‘round here, we stand up very strong

She called one morning sobbing

reaching, grasping through the line

she cried “Joey, I’m bleeding,”

 And, almost incoherently, “I’ve lost our grain of sand.”

“’round here, it’s slipping through my hands”

‘round here, she said “it’s slipping through my hands”

‘round here, she said “no one understands”

‘round here, she said “you’ll miss me when I’m gone”

‘round here, she said “you’ll need them to keep you warm”

‘round here, the night is very, very, long

If I close my eyes I find myself

On the Atlanta Highway once again.

On my way back from the “Love Shack”

Blinded by the blood-red mourning sun.

‘round here, I’m blinded by the mourning sun

She found them on the streets of Athens

and brought the little urchins home.

 saying “someday you’re gonna miss me,

and you’ll need them to keep you warm.”

‘round here, you’ll need them to keep you warm

The ghost-white curtains are moving

Though the windows are tightly closed

And they move now ever closer

To keep me safe and sound.

‘round here, they keep me safe and sound

‘round here, she said “it’s slipping through my hands”

‘round here, she said “no one understands”

‘round here, she said “you’ll miss me when I’m gone”

‘round here, she said “you’ll need them to keep you warm”

‘round here, the night is very, very, very, very long

Stopping by a graveyard on a snowy evening

Broken stones once marked the names and dates

A scene conjured up by Frost and Faulkner

Abandoned now to smuttish time and cruel fates.

‘round here, we once carved out our names

Now I find myself walking dogs

Chasing squirrels and Counting Crows

And though the nights are oh so long

I cannot greet the garish sun

‘round here, we do not greet the garish sun

‘round here, it’s slipping through my hands.

‘round here, no one understands.

‘round here, I miss you, now my muse is gone.

‘round here, I need them now to keep me, to keep me, warm.

‘round here, the nights are very, very, very, very, very, very long.

‘round here.

_______

Special thanks to Counting Crows for the refrain “Round Here”, as well as William Faulkner, Robert Frost, the B-52’s, William Shakespeare and, of course, Katie for the inspiration.

As Bono and U2 remind us, every poet is a thief.