For The Consideration Of Bobby

Bobby says they treat him well
“Considering,” he must confess
He asks if he can bum a smoke
Then languidly begins to dress

Bobby says that there’s a path
Behind the old infirmary
He sometimes walks to be alone
Where silence is a luxury

We squat beside the water’s edge
He looks so fragile sitting there
His hair a rat’s nest thick as wool
His vacant face so beautiful

“It’s awfully considerate ... your visit I mean”
He whispers distracted by something unseen
And aside from his saucer-sized cinders for eyes
The tea party’s presence is hard(i)ly recognized

Bobby says they colonize
Beneath the surface scabs of skin
The medication wards them off
But then they just come back again

And if we just sit still a while
It might just help to calm the ticks
And if the lights could be turned down
That might just trick what makes him sick

The screams cordoned by rows of pines
Send frozen shivers down my spine
But Bobby doesn’t seem to mind
He dips his feet in pools of time

“It’s awfully considerate ... you bringing me here”
He mutters – to whom is not totally clear
And I watch as his thoughts gradually gravitate
Toward the dusk of sunk sunset’s sedate slumbered wake

Onward toward the piper’s laughter, onward toward the feast deranged
To dance the waltz of Arnold Layne, to join the genius gone insane
The lonely traveled wastelands roamed, the mental halls like catacombs
To ultimately be alone, the lights are on but no one’s home

Bobby says he’s gone beyond
Beyond the boundless windswept seas
Beyond the endless roads to nowhere
Beyond the fields of Athenry

The breeze of autumn brisk upon us
Bobby stares up at the sky
Entranced by cosmic lullabies
Crooned by the ghosts of ancient lives

And low the melic azure melt spells
Pulsate through the coursing tides
They give birth to the dark hyenas
Who howl for haunted souls to shine

“It’s awfully considerate ... inviting the stars”
He awes pointing out constellations afar
“And there’s Venus,” I say, but he doesn’t agree
He explains that “it’s Noth”, home of his ancestry

The distance of his empty gaze
Lost in a schizophrenic haze
Dark angel clipped of wings once vibrant
Now grounded down by flights abeyant

Then Bobby looks me in the eye
Face filled with fear to my surprise
“Where am I?!?” steals his panicked cry
I’m forced to take him back inside

And as he takes his slippers off
I place the pills near his bedside
He climbs secure beneath the sheets
Then takes a drink and starts to sink

“It’s awfully considerate ... you tucking me in”
He murmurs sedately in a tone worn and thin
“Sleep tight, prince,” I whisper through soft tears that stream
“Your journey’s now over; it was all just a dream.”