The Night Cafe

The Night Cafe

The Night Cafe
Vincent Van Gogh
What else to say?
Where would words go?

Le Cafe de Nuit
(how bad my French is)
It speaks to me
(Christ I’m pretentious)

It’s seventy kilometers
It hangs at Yale
It’s….oh God I’m not sure..
Words will fail

Am I a critic?
Here I stand
Not analytic
But with brush in hand

And he is here
Considering light
I breathe his air
I sense his night

I am in New Haven
And yet I am gone
Oh yes, a haven
But old as dawn

Of man
As he draws on caves
No past, no plan
Applause or raves

I was young
When I first saw
It took my tongue
I stood in awe

Decades flee
Still nothing to say
Je suis
The Night Cafe

The Night Cafe
Vincent Van Gogh
I want to stay
And pray I know

When to be silent
When nothing to say
Of the sacred and violent
The Night Cafe

Dennis Caraher

I am about to release a new record of original songs. Kingdom of Summer. You may pre-order and find out more information here.