week twentynine: the same deer

(a poem)

the same deer

every time i close my eyes
i see the same deer lying on the road side
and i don’t know what’s worse
being a vulture or leaving meat on the bone

i keep hearing crows at night
so i put a pint of whiskey and a bible by my side
and i saw the priest buying blood at the liquor store

and i’ve seen you in this room before
i’ve seen you here before

every night the crows are screaming
and it gets so i don’t know if i’m awake or dreaming
and i’ve got a memory of walking down power lines

she had her hand in my hair
she whispered in my ear it takes so long getting there
then i saw something run across the lights in the road

every time i close my eyes
i see the same deer lying on the road side
i said are you all right and all that she said was no

i’ve seen you in this room before
i’ve seen you here before
i’ve seen you here before now

and i know that she'd say
it’s a common mistake
i'll grow out of someday
but if you’re here and i’m here
this is a real place
i’ve seen you here before