faces and
eyes,
distant,
away
from my
grasp
hands
reaching,
into
emptiness
alone in this world
of horror
alien
to my friends
“I don’t know
what’s wrong with
Harv…
he’s so distant”
breath
on a mirror,
there…
then gone
waiting for
something
that’s so…distant
Notes
A poem I wrote over 25 years ago. It is more relevant and closer to my lifestyle today than it was in 1992.
After The Hated Uncles broke up in 1992, John Battaglia and I got together in the summer and spent a week recording new music & lyrics. Hated Uncle Paul Settle played some beautiful muted trumpet on this piece. He and John captured the spirit of the lyrics perfectly!
Written: 1992