my tender companion has returned
i feel her moving through these dark
rain-soaked streets
flitting beneath the neon
hoping to meet my eyes
in some well-lit cafe
where she knows i've gone
to write
to whisper on white pages
what i know to be the truth
that she is drifting here
with these ocean breezes
wanting to caress my face
and look deep again
in my dark poet eyes
to see if she can raise the same warmth
she stole from there so long ago
before she ran into the world
with confused dreams of motherhood
and affluence

yes
i tell you it is so
she walks these very avenues
with no hat
letting the rain hide the tears
she finally cried when she realized
what she'd done to leave me
on a bed of winter
with barely enough money
to pay off the cold

i tell you
there is no doubt in my mind
she knows i'm here
stranger than her bewitching smile
ready to dispel the years of silence
mourning for one who did not die
but walked miraculously through nothing
to stand unscathed but somewhat weathered
on this corner
just around the corner from where she walks
remembering the spirit that once glowed between us
like a swollen summer river
cascading in the moonlight of those days
when we both believed in impossible things
and knots that could not be untied
long before these years of estrangement
collapsed between us
and the pillars of our temple were crushed
by the earthquake of our lives
then mortarized on the hardness of our attitudes
and our hearts

i swear to you
i know she has had a breakdown
some stark and sudden bolt of light
has reignited her passion
and she hunts me through these lonely streets
like a mother hunts a wayward child
she fears i've fallen into danger
or been carried off to some torture chamber
where i may not survive

but i swear
i am hiding in archways
under trees in the parks
i am watching where she goes
and wondering how long it will take her
to peer back over her shoulder
and realize i never was quite gone
i was simply resting in the apathy
of her tucked away memories
certain she'd be back to haunt me
when i finally found what i was looking for
after i let her drive me out
and up and down this crazy highway
where my destiny unfolded
in strangely worded stanzas
that ran right out of my pen
when i went looking for well-lit places
where i could sit and write
where the memory of her bewitching smile
still has a toxic quality
that sends me into inclement weather
to whisper on white pages
what i know to be the truth

that she loves me deeper than this life
and wants to find me out
so she can know
though she killed me with so many lies
and twisted turns of truth
that i lived through all of it
ready to dispel these years
of silence and abandonment

she wants to caress my face
and look deep
into my dark poet eyes
where she knows she'll find
forgiveness

sitting with the Americns on Third Beach
as the sun sets over Vancouver Island
sitting on a rock near Siwash Rock
as the west coast day rolls west

i remember the trouble here
when the kids lit bonfires
and slept amid the driftwood
only to be routed by policemen on horseback
in the middle of the night

i remember how we were driven through the west end
and kitsalano
how others swarmed into the eastside
many lost in the stampede

i saw this city grow
from an oddly-dated Canadian sea town
into the bustling mallais of traffic and overrun waterfront,
the world city it has become

i'm sitting with the Americans beneath a bluff in Stanley Park
looking past the freighters moored towards the strait
sitting on a rock near Siwash Rock
as the west coast day rolls west

and i'm remembering those other days
and i'm thinking
we'd have been a whole lot better off
if we'd just stayed on the beach

i had some hours to kill
before i was scheduled to arrive
at the walls of Jericho
i had my trumpet shined and ready
and i really believed
i really believed

i'd heard the sound of every horn
shake the earth before
and i'd been inside the city
so i knew
how fragile those walls were
and i really beleived
i really believed

so i took some time alone in the desert
i took some time to myself
i'd been wandering all my life in that sand
and it felt a lot like home
i could even recall old Moses
that morning on the hill
he was pretty damned angry
and i really believed
i really believed

he had us all convinced
as long as we kept walking
we'd get where we were going
but now the stress was in another man's hands
and he'd ordered the trumpets to sound
and we really believed
we really believed

and all of our lives
all of our lives we wandered around
praying for enough food and water
praying for shelter
now the moment we'd all been told about
had arrived
and we really believed
we really believed

and in the morning at the appointed hour
i made myself ready beneath the ripening moon
and when the call came forward
i played my trumpet
and i really believed
i really believed

the memories flood
Scruffy the Clown with the helium balloon complex
being drunk in an AA meeting
trying to put himself through and quit
all he put himself through was hell
until he gave up trying to quit
there was nothing else he could do
it was total surrender

now 18 years and some months later
my number one grace is the fact i remember
and i hope i never forget
but i pray i never go back
to bouncing off walls
and hangovers
to waking up brutalized
and staggering in the dark
i hope i never forget
but i pray i never go back

there's a rumour in the world
a lie born of fear and ignorance
it claims alcoholism is a moral dilemna
but i assure you it's a gene
bread into behaviour for many generations now
it's not a sin, it's a disease
like diabetes
and the primary insulin
is abstinance

and i hope i never forget
but i pray i never go back
to vomitting on bed sheets
waking up in strangers' beds
out in the weather
or on freezing cell floors
and i hope i never forget
but i pray i always remember
'cause i don't ever want to go back

i was Dr. Jeckyll and Mr. Hyde
i was a strung-out punk on a joyride
i was sweet
i was charming
i would rob you blind
i was cruel and uncaring
i told vicious lies
and i hope i never forget
but i pray i never go back
to being Scruffy the Clown