I had my hopes of how I would be
After living in exile
After closing your eyes to me

I even wrote scenes where I reemerged boldly
Bearded, alive, with eskimo eyes
New baby on my back, but from where?

But I didn't count the fact that I have ghosts in my mind
Stowaways. Great ghosts of my life
Great ghosts of old wives
And they're howling!

So I spent my wilderness time rolling on the ground
Pulling my hair, and wrestling them off
Yelling at no one, punching snow

I gathered ghosts and gave them my lecture
I bid them away, I pleaded and cried. I said
There's no room in my life for you, or you
Or your howling!

Let me undo these ropes and go on living without you
Not just change where we live
Go on get, I said

I had my hopes about how I would be after sending them off
After getting set free
But there's no such thing as living
Without their prowling

As you can see, having descended the hill
I still look like me
I still wallow like Phil
And forever will

I'm teeming with ghosts and I'm still whining for wives
Knitting my brow
But now I've surrendered
In fact, I have joined in
Hear us howling!

Copyright: SC PUBLISHING DBA SECRETLY CANADIAN PUB.
Writer(s): Phillip Whitman Elvrum