I Can't Breathe

from Perfect Sleeping Weather by Larry Fulford

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Scrawled into notebooks from the familiar comforts of temporary homes and the passenger seats of mechanically unsound vehicles adrift on the highways and back roads of America, Perfect Sleeping Weather is fifteen years of thoughts, observations, facts, and fictions hammered into a collection of poetry that, according to one reader, "sounds like a sigh."

In this, his first book, writer/drummer/comedian Larry Fulford reflects on the usual -- life, death, love and leaving -- while still managing to name-check Van Halen. Twice.

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lyrics

We don’t have to go it alone,
but they will insist we wear pepper spray cologne
dabbed on our necks with bullets
and chokeholds so it lasts all night,
through the last dance and after the last glass is raised
and slammed, empty as all of this,
back down on the bar.

A toast!
To punching in and out and back in again,
to being sworn to secrecy for as long as there are eagles left.

To fear!
The constant comfort we can all agree on keeping us company;
cameras in the red lights and stop signs
and this book you’re reading.

To standing your shaky ground!
Through earthquakes and hurricanes, shackled in place by hollow
laws.

Touchdown!

Where was I going with this?
Doesn’t matter.
I don’t have to go it alone.