on pity & the state of things

On pity & the state of things (a good man moves to texas)

he spent three days in a coma and when he woke up, he knew
he wouldn't be here forever. instead, he would move to texas.
there would be no pity there,

he would take loud deborah with him, he would take the train,
and we would call the train loud deborah--
we would wave our hands and tremble from the platform.

there would be no regulars at the bar. mostly, there would be no pity
and none of the old bathroom stalls. the bands would come through
the new town, same as the old one, especially loud Deborah

who shows up everywhere and who shows up singing
through a mouthful of hamburger meat. we'd play a song about her
and pass the whiskey, screaming sorrow is a joke.

later on, after we'd fallen over and into eachother
& our abandoned belongings filled the empty spaces, loud deborah chugged on
like a train with no stops, she sang
go to sleep you little baby and she clapped her hands--
she was right there with us, the whole time
recording it all:

a good man was leaving us here

so loud deborah slammed the door open for the good man,
who let the cat out and the cat came back too quickly
because there is no pity & the cat won't move now there is no pity
& no one gets abandoned when a good man moves
to texas.