Week Six: "Deer Bones"

deer bones
by max garcía conover

the deer you found lying in the woods on your way back home
you said its spine was like the lines of pines covered in snow
"and the sky" you said "is everywhere and everybody floats"
and then you asked me to call you once in a while so you don't feel so alone

come indoors, come inside
i've got hope in this kind of life

you were looking for the kind of ties that bind and i know i let you down
i went staggering across your yard that time that your father threw me out
morning brings a clean yellow light and i'm thankful for that now

come indoors, come inside
i've got hope in this kind of life
come indoors, come inside
deer bones below the pines

so how to love and how to use our time
and the ties that bind

Week Five: "We'll Be Well Again"

we'll be well again
by max garcía conover

we were well in russia once
we were getting on a train
headed west through the tall pines
we were well and we'll be well again

you were reading nabokov
and i was cheating off of yeats
playing cards in the dining car
we were well and we'll be well again

how the ocean broke your heart
how the ocean doesn't change
40,000 feet up in the air
we were well and we'll be well again

i can get there most of the time
i've got all kinds of ways in
and my favorite is thinking you and i
we were well and we'll be well again

Week Four: "Gone (pt.2)"

gone (pt.2) 
by max garcía conover 

she said honey you're like a bird
you're always leaving for where you just were

we could paint floorboards and shake the dust
give away everything that's not something to us

and this summer we could plant sugarcane
just for the smell in the air when it rains

i'll be gone too long, i know

you wrote about a weird little kid
who dreamt of living in michigan

and he wore a fur coat all summer long
never left and was always gone

i'll be gone too long , i know

i don't expect you to wait

but i don't want to leave
i'm not a rambling man
i've got no interest in trains
i'm fine where i am

i believe in digging in
i think that's hard enough
i could make us a home
build a fire in our stove when you're waking up

but i'll be gone too long

Week Two: "My Neighbor Joe"

my neighbor joe
by max garcía conover

my dog died in 2005
she was holding my heart and i was holding her hide in the rain

my neighbor joe shot my dog
he said "i killed her cause you called the cops on me"

when i die my only ghost is for you joe
otherwise i'm staying gone when i go

after that my grandpa passed
at night sometimes i'd wonder when we'd meet

my dad said "when you're dead you're dead" 
my mother disagreed

i said "when i die my only ghost is for our neighbor joe
otherwise i'm staying gone when i go"

i hated joe
he had a daughter though
and i would carve her name on the creek stones
i was hunting raccoons in the wax moon
and she came to me one day before the dawn
she said "hold me" 
she said she couldn't sleep
she said she had a vision where she lay
in the low weeds of the dry creek
and her naked body was covered with snakes
"that's how i'll die" she said
and i said "i'd be glad to die with you that way any day"

and when i die my only ghost is for your daddy joe
otherwise i'm staying gone when i go
i swear to god my only ghost is for you joe
otherwise i'm staying gone when i go

Week One: "Motorhome"

motorhome
by max garcía conover

if we make it back to new york
we'll tell them all about new mexico
thanksgiving in the walmart parking lot
transmission busted on our motorhome

we'll tell them how we almost made a living
10,000 miles like a couple dogs
howling every night at someone different
waking up just the two of us

driving through wyoming in the wind
we counted out a hundred antelope
we didn't have a place to go right then
so we pulled over and that was home

the million ways there were to make a living
the million things we filled those days up with
we stopped asking everyone's permission
and we found out it wasn't theirs to give

if they're talking now and i'm not listening
if i'm staring out at the road
it's probably her that i'm missing
our dear departed motorhome