in places with bad lighting
DESCRIPTION
Through the strum and refrain of his verse, Adam Trice is a adept chronicler of the irrational—revealing the origins beneath the dirt on the soles of our collective consciousness. Imbued with a new American duende, the visceral authenticity within the layers of his poetry is, at once, evocative and liberating. Shadows and forms wander through each vignette. He wears the darkness well, and the laughter. Searching within and without simultaneously, the subtle biographical qualities of his work are accompanied by explorations of cosmology and waffle diners, pharmaceutical reps and dissonance, la la morte, and glimpses of a social fabric designed to confuse.TRANSCRIPT
in places withBAD LIGHTING
in places withBAD LIGHTING
poems and songsADAM TRICE
MR. DIYDS PUBLISHING
BALTIMORE, MARYLAND
v
2009
Copyright 2009. All rights reserved.
All poems written by Adam Trice. Layout and design by Adam Trice. Mr. DIYDS Publishing. is book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.
e following poems have appeared in various publications: “God is Good and So is People” Review Americana (2008), “Goddamn Jersey Waffle Diners” Welter (2008).
All songs written by Adam Trice.All rights reserved. ASCAP 2009.
Design: Adam TriceRecording Engineer: Greg Humphreys (Woodbine, MD)Mixing Engineer: Matthew Leffler Schulman, Mobtown StudiosMastering Engineer: Michael Nestor, Beech�elds Record Label
“I Stay in Bed” Adam Trice: acoustic guitar, vocalsJulia Oat-Judge: cello
“Sugar on the Wounds”Adam Trice: acoustic guitar, vocals, electric guitareron Melchior: bassJulia Oat-Judge: celloTony Calato: drums
“Firetrail”Adam Trice: acoustic guitar, vocals, electric guitareron Melchior: bassTony Calato: drums
“Screened Porch”Adam Trice: acoustic guitar, vocals, electric guitareron Melchior: bassTony Calato: drums
“e Current”Adam Trice: acoustic guitar, vocals, electric guitarJulia Oat-Judge: celloTony Calato: drums
Yes, you who must leave everything that you cannot control.It begins with your family, but soon it comes ‘round to your soul. Well I’ve been where you’re hanging and I think I can see how you’re pinned.When you’re not feeling holy it’s lonliness that says that you’ve sinned.
Leonard Cohen, Sisters of Mercy
Contents
I Stay in Bed
13 at Old Green Camper
14 To My Teenage Years
16 Consider em All Naked
18 God is Good and So is People
19 Goddamn Jersey Waffle Diners
20 Phone Call From My Brother Alex (1)
21 It’s Dark Before Anything Low
22 Jukebox
23 Rotten Deli Sandwiches
24 Sugar on the Wounds *
3 e Sound the World Makes
4 Voice of My Father
5 Dear Southwest Rocker Trash
6 An Occasion
7 Ashtray
8 Pistol
9 Story
10 I Stay in Bed *
Sugar on the Wounds
Firetrail
27 Patience
28 Headcough
29 I Want a Fishing Vest
30 Love is Not Pillsbury
31 Phone Call From My Brother Alex (2)
32 Father and Sons
33 Southern Yellow Pine
34 Firetrail *
Screened Porch
37 Bar Spit
38 Scissors, Skunks, Paramedics
39 My Face to the Glass
40 Missed Connections
41 Your Sleep Will Be a Long One (How to Pass an Employment Drug Screening)
42 Phone Call From My Brother Alex (3)
43 Screened Porch *
e Current
47 Cold, Cold Hospital
48 Walking in My Sleep
49 Lookers From Gazebo
50 God
51 Happiness
52 2549 N. Howard St.
53 Shipyard
54 e Current *
Audio soundtrack included in the back of this book.
(*) Indicates song lyrics for accompanying soundtrack
I Stay in Bed
3
The Sound the World Makes
now that a sort of music has started,
now that the room is still
rolled up under a rugare the voices,
you know howto begin with a bell,
and so,the warm breath of whispers
falling in the darkjust wait,
some subtle strumand refrain
from stepping,
with what you willthe cello?
an old tugboat swayingunder the bridge.
Voice of My Father
4
as a child I wanted your power,
your stature and commandnow scatters.
and on �re, heartburn of my father
the frowning fear hanging over my shadow,
and in my voice something of a man.
5
Dear Southwest Rocker Trash
I listenedto that cracked scuttle- crash of yours;every damn note of it. I was hammered, a real wreck back by the bar – suck it motherfucker etched on the red bathroom stall;
piss, spit, cigarette butts on the soles of my black boots.
I watched you searchthe stage for your plastic lighter.
I watched you mess with the noise of that awful ampli�er.
I watched your face: wide, some-what clean, but broken off from the room of folksters who don’t give a shit for your voice.
An Occasion
Why Can’t He Be You? – Patsy Cline
there’s a bar down the street I say,my phone message dark and cold, we can drink real cheap no other reason, do you need one?to get low with meto wear the night like an old shirtand so on and on I go, spilling everything that gets to the point about love and stains and how far things will go right then,and of all choices for some strangerto select that song,her broken voicethrough the jukebox.
6
Why Can’t He Be You? – Patsy Cline
there’s a bar down the street I say,my phone message dark and cold, we can drink real cheap no other reason, do you need one?to get low with meto wear the night like an old shirtand so on and on I go, spilling everything that gets to the point about love and stains and how far things will go right then,and of all choices for some strangerto select that song,her broken voicethrough the jukebox.
7
Ashtray
to think that sucking the sin from her cigarette can make your heart explode, gray ash �icked to the smutty glass tray choking like a wardog in dirt, that warm beer taste of kerosene, face pressed with temper and shame like my brother barking for love in the back of the bar, and still you drink and smoke til last call, grinding your teeth down to the black seeds.
8
Pistol
the priceof our nation on birth control and fat kids buried at the bottom of the couch. sugar,gasoline, Sally Jessy Raphael, heat index paving over Dorchester. I sit,eating cereal while my grandmakeeps her �nger pointed at the damn television.
the priceof our nation on birth control and fat kids buried at the bottom of the couch. sugar,gasoline, Sally Jessy Raphael, heat index paving over Dorchester. I sit,eating cereal while my grandmakeeps her �nger pointed at the damn television.
9
Story
kitchen soup sitting all day cold,
nothing more than that.
10
I Stay in Bed *
I stay in bedI stay in bedof all the white light shinin’ on my headI stay in bed
I stay in bedI stay in bedof all the black space, been thinkin’ about the deadI stay in bed
I want to tell you the story in my headI want to hear how the story endseveryone a storyI stay in bed
I stay in bed I stay in bedbetween god and god ain’t nothin’I stay in bed
Sugar on the Wounds
13
That Old Green Camper
of yours smelled like mouthwash and toilet sanitizer. we’d sleep there
just us boys parked in the driveway far enough from the front porch.
how you’d �ip the countertop into a bed abracadabra,
story of samson, david and goliath from picture books.
the fabric bucket seats, torn window screeens,
frosted �akes the next morningstraight from a styrofoam cup.
14
To My Teenage Years
to dry smiles and whiskers, that picture of Jesus hangingon my bedroom wallkicking evil,
to cold leovers,chicken and raggypants no matter when,my stomach a chipper truck,
to long nights when I smelled love burning,
to oily skin,stale diners,and the donut shop,
“mister, mister?”in the parking lotoutside Rite-Aid Liquors,
to cigarettes and hangoversun�ltered,
to vertigo and dreams stoned in the woods somewhere,
to indifference, pressing like a hot iron
all collar-bentin the mirror.
15
16
Consider Them All Naked
consider shaving, consider coupons, consider stockcars,
consider the stench in that can, consider river canyons, consider junkyards,
consider patti smith, consider moonpies, consider all others naked,
consider the villanelle, consider it medium rare, consider what remains,
consider binge drinking, consider boxer shorts, consider persuasion,
consider Faulkner, consider the alternatives, consider hitchhiking,
consider tuba lessons, consider the bene�ts, consider Red Lobster,
consider masterbation, consider this as metaphor, consider those missing teeth,
consider science �cton, consider giving this all up, consider neptune,
consider slipping the tongue, consider rhyme-scheme, consider Joey Ramone,
consider roach-clips, consider punctuation, consider ending on pigeons.
17
18
God is Good and So is People
corned beefin cracks on an empty stomach, broken jawbus fare,dumpsters stocked with kitchen scraps.box crates, andbail bonds,rotten �shand wheelchairsfor salvation under the interstate. her sleeping bag soaking up a puddle.
19
Goddamn Jersey Waffle Diners
goddamn jersey waffle diners goddamn full moonshiners
goddamn shit-harvest stripmallsgoddamn circus-pie catcalls
goddamn Johnny Mercer mud �elds goddamn electric-wire blackbirdsgoddamn factory workersgoddamn shovel-bent farmers goddamn St. Timothy goddamn Cincinnatigoddamn salvation armygoddamn Sunday church bells goddamn contagious hospitals
goddamn chimney-smoke harborsgoddamn crude-well believersgoddamn �annel-covered drunkards
goddamn silver olive daggers goddamn winter prisonsgoddamn salami truck driversgoddamn nine-to-�vers goddamn businessman suspenders goddamn white ripple rosesgoddamn chicken-wire jokersgoddamn Cleveland-shuffle smokers goddamn iron-wrecked furnaces
goddamn breathless winter bushesgoddamn sick-dog busesgoddamn rotten-crow espresso
goddamn spoken-word sparrow goddamn jersey waffle diners.
20
Phone Call From My Brother Alex (1)
yeah my fat head just stopped;
that’s right,
I found a wet mop (the redblue glow-sign surging)
just this warehouse and me behind back
down to my last cigarette.
yeah my fat head just stopped;
that’s right,
I found a wet mop (the redblue glow-sign surging)
just this warehouse and me behind back
down to my last cigarette.
21
It’s Dark Before Anything Low
I see the difference with a rock
in your chest silence,
brown and subtle hollow behind words
and I understand your �st
that smashes straight down
on my head, a hammer to a yard sign
for all it’s worth you keep it dry and sincere
as a brother careful not to step on the devil in one of us.
22
Jukebox
to hang the �oorand that is thatthe ratty digsformed on free noise,this is just to say
you and old newsprint born as an antique stovetop;
on second thought,disregard everythingsoon aer extensions and back walls drop out.
Rotten Deli Sandwiches
my father hidesrotten deli sandwiches in placeswith bad lighting.
I dreamt of hitting him with my friend’s used car but lithium gave me a November head cold and the car burned.
I watched the orange �ame rise high and roar then came great red engines for the street circus.
23
Sugar on the Wounds *
take your moneyand your lemon-colored gringot a pocket full of mercyand a wallet full of sin
so take your moneyand the lizard in your soulgonna drive to californiasunsway when I roll
gotta �recracker in my chestgotta a lovesong that just won’t passdressed in black like johnny cash
so take your moneythrow some sugar on the woundslight �aking in the shadowssunsway come and get me soon
24
Firetrail
Patience
and I would let you slip slant so quick your weight splashing down
and to imagine I mean it! I want to go collapse in slowmotion
this old dog is wet in a tub of warm bathwater.
27
Headcough
dear brother like a yellow lamp,
I wear weakness,
humiliation broken in glass, sharp and close;
and for us smoking hash in the alley,
teeth clenched, pacing in silence
and to recall when did I become so bitter?
28
dear brother like a yellow lamp,
I wear weakness,
humiliation broken in glass, sharp and close;
and for us smoking hash in the alley,
teeth clenched, pacing in silence
and to recall when did I become so bitter?
I Want a Fishing Vest
I want a German �ask, I want free scrap metals, I want to trade nitro for auto work, I want a menu chalkboard, I want to bowl with your grandmother, I want a juice blender, I want my neighbor’s moon bounce, I want to trade almost-new baby stuff for anything, I want my lungs, I want to clean your garage, I want a glass of milk, I want to really like Motorhead, I want to bark at a stranger, I want those fucking rollerskates, I want this all in a contract, I want to wiggle, I want ski pants, I want everything you got, I want it fast-twitch, I want something close to 20/20, I want my thoughts prior to knowing exactly what a vagina looked like, I want a sea kayak, I want to repossess cars, I want an over-sized couch, I want my hair back.
29
Love is Not Pillsbury
love is not �berglassspread on burnt toast,
the blender, tomato juice and coffeefor sky drops,
open to interpretation
love is not vegan,or breakfast sausage
love is not warm in the oven love is nothingover easy
the eggs on the edge of paranoia.
30
Phone Call From My Brother Alex (2)
people don’t buy shit; not to mention living with my mother:the goddamn country on �re.
and last night I worked my dick off. you got any better ideas let me have em’.
31
Father and Sons
the sky a generator blue chipped like the front porch falling, door sticking then slammed,WD- 40,us goddamn kids messin’ around in motor oil, war with the lawn mower,cherry-�avored drink spill, the dirt and grass skid where else but on the carpet, bull chasing us chickens in the kitchen,and whatdo you think, we live in a barn?
32
the sky a generator blue chipped like the front porch falling, door sticking then slammed,WD- 40,us goddamn kids messin’ around in motor oil, war with the lawn mower,cherry-�avored drink spill, the dirt and grass skid where else but on the carpet, bull chasing us chickens in the kitchen,and whatdo you think, we live in a barn?
Southern Yellow Pine
of all things I might have learnedfrom my father
like southern yellow pine or a wet comb for parting my hair
I was never much help,yet available to break everything
time without you there is something to pretend while extracting splinters.
33
Firetrail *
oh my father lie down like an old dog
gonna kick that dog right down on the side of the road
oh my father lie down like an old dog
oh my brother not now with that rock and roll
gonna keep on running right down the �retrail
oh my brother not now with that rock and roll
34
Screened Porch
Bar Spit
37
the agitation in your voice while sipping warm beer at a coltish pace you assume a dark corner.
38
Scissors, Skunks, Paramedics
superman,malt liquor,thumb tacks,
petroleum,heart conditions,
scam artists,
syrup,armburns,
chicken palace,evangelists,
even my cat.
My Face to the Glass
39
some hook to another hook or a link to my pants
sometimes loose I slouch, it’s that simple seeking a better word for what’s feltseconds aer pressing
my face to the glass like wanting to shake the slow day from the sun I think of my choices
golden through window glare and the wrinkle on my forehead that you once thought distinguished,
and it’s much better leaving without a message, no chance of losing
but now, not exactly, I begin to worry, my coffee cold, and it’s time to �y south for winter.
Missed Connections
40
to the hot cashier at club one I know you will read this; I want all or nothing; this morning at starbucks I waited for my past in homer alaska; that bastard lovebug like an old clunky sprout, my heart couldn’t begin to stop happiness; and please make that four pieces of cake; just so you know I’m hoping for your smile, so upsettingly attractive; I take long walks from here to there searching like a nighthawk; for you it just happens. sorry I didn’t look sooner for you, for karma– that little yellow piece of paper.
41
Your Sleep Will Be a Long One
(How to Pass an Employment Drug Screening)
wait! here’s some money in market research
a world of thirst something like high school biology
or �ne wine even beer distribution
I want you to imagine ideas and nothing but ideas
pharmaceutical representation and anything to do with Amsterdam
�nancial advisor, �lm maker, listen! a manager at Pizza Hut
janitor, assisted living, what’s the salary again?
but if suddenly some day my insomnia,
medical transcriptionist; choose any leg to designate.
42
Phone Call From My Brother Alex (3)
if I don’t rant? what?
try
to reason with this fucktard
the history of some world traveler, world-class business
unbelievable
in America?
idiots teaching our youth!a country designed to confuse,
got the reaper at my back (that’s what I call my student loan officers).
if I don’t rant? what?
try
to reason with this fucktard
the history of some world traveler, world-class business
unbelievable
in America?
idiots teaching our youth!a country designed to confuse,
got the reaper at my back (that’s what I call my student loan officers).
Screened Porch *
43
face like a screened porchpressed to the sunvoice like cardboardpressed to the sun
eyes like two blackbirdsspread to the skyI know you got problemsspread to the sky
it’s not you, not me
teeth grind the sugarin a bleached-out mouthyou say you want mercyfrom a bleached-out mouth
smile like a shovelthrow the dirt on the hillI bet you got some wordsthrow the dirt on the hill
The Current
47
Cold, Cold Hospital
and how oldto tell
when a potato has gone bad;
the so black spots.
48
Walking in My Sleep
it is just pattern
choice, moment… pattern
breath across gaps
brilliance
working, surely workingnot always facing one another
here is not (what is said before) whatis said
early light
profusion of light.
Lookers From Gazebo
I sit n watchhoney stains form on the sidewalk
just outside the
A l a s k a n shoe repairwhile my brotherAlex pawns frozen duckpaintings.
49
50
God
you are a �y, hospital meat,
some main course under grey cream sauce.
51
Happiness
of your hairthere go your teethto the hospital
in decemberthe night clear, and cold coatswith a lock on your wrist
two �ngers hold the steady pulsein time
folding downthe endings careless
of waiting under bedsheetsfor morning,
anotherwhite picture.
52
2549 N. Howard St.
cracks in alleys a shadow st. mark’s cathedral a hellbent hobo taking prayer, a blue bag kissing the sidewalk –
you are a zombie lovesongasleep in my ear.
Shipyard
53
I had a dream last nightand the sun stayed on my skin
schools of �sh I could smell or a place to hook the water
like anything you wantas dry work with plenty of hedges to prune,
and summer birdstrimming silk in the water bath
too hot for the shipyard
to hear ghosts speakand the windows in the bright room.
The Current *
54
and into the shadows without any at allleaf-littered and sweptalong with the current
and I drive my carto the edge of the citysky shine like glassat the edge of the city
and into the shadows without any at allleaf-littered and sweptalong with the current
and sometimes unclearkeep the wind to my backblack morning birdwon’t ever �y back
and into the shadows without any at allleaf-littered and sweptalong with the current
Audio Soundtrack
e text for this book is set in Minion Pro. Titles of poems are set in Arial Rounded MT Bold and title pages and section pages are set in Bodini MT.
Adam Trice is a poet, lyricist, and songwriter from Baltimore, Maryland. Much of his poetic voice surfaces in his songwriting for his graveyard country rock persona, Red Sammy, a reference to a minor character in Flannery O’Connor’s short story “A Good Man is Hard to Find” (1955). Trice lives in Baltimore, MD where he actively writes and performs.
He received his M.F.A. degree in Creative Writing and Publishing Arts from the University of Baltimore.
Official Site:www.redsammy.com
About the Author