"2 Screens"

by Joseph McCombs

With an eye on the past, another on the bottle,
I had a vision you were fighting gods.
Screaming the chant while breathing underwater:
A noble rage against dramatic odds.

          My walls were coated
          With ideas that breathed your name;
          I was devoted,
          I was blind, no sense of shame.

          Everything was fine, and quite all right,
          But these 2 screens were messing up my sight.

The dream we needed, the dream we saw,
Became distant and obscure, or worse,
Chalked up to the fancy of a child's inverted scrawls --
In this mangled brain, even thoughts are terse.

          What do I deserve,
          What's my fate for how I feel?
          Who's got the nerve
          To dictate just what is real?

          I don't need to be too bright,
          But these 2 screens are blocking out the light.

Memories filter through your eyes, then mine.
Sticky, tainted residue of the winter remains.
Come spring we've moved on, forming lines parallel:
The same direction, never to meet again.

          It's time I point
          Somewhere else, like I should;
          Another joint,
          Another town will do me good.

          Everything is fine, and quite all right,
          But these 2 screens are messing up my sight.

This is for my best years forfeited.
And long after your eyes have turned hazard grey,
Mine shall finally come alive, for once,
And greet the dawning of another age.


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