Mark Cohen

Mark is 48 years old. Please forgive him for spending the first 30 years of his life on the East Coast. Mark moved to Madison in August of 1987 and has lived here ever since, except for 14 months in Texas. Mark has too many degrees, as well as a few uncompleted courses of study. He is hopelessly unemployable for reasons that are a mystery to him. Mark has been writing poetry and prose since ninth grade; he has been playing the "publishing game" since1993; and has a few credits under his belt. Mark's current hobby (it changes constantly) is religious studies, including Talmud study and 20th Century religious thought.

When I go home
There will be bells ringing and trumpets blaring
And a red carpet
Every twenty-five miles along the way
When I go home
There will be children crying and friends cheering
And a Dixieland Band
Every twenty-five miles along the way
When I go home
I ain't never gonna leave again
I've learned my lesson
I've paid the price
And I'm going to forget all about this hell-hole, this God-forsaken town,
This "buckle of the Bible belt" known as Denton, Texas
When I go home
I just stopped at McDonaldís
Now I'm heading for my ATM
Iím making all the lights
And the sun is shining
Steven Berg and I went to church last night
(He's a good friend)
I threw some cash in the plate
And we both took communion
Then we drove our cars to the Speedway Bar
Didn't drink no alcohol or nothing like that
Berg is even poorer than me
So he watched me eat
Kathryn is on the radio right now
She's the Queen of Madison Smooth Jazz, you know
And when she's on the air, the music is always good
There's a war going on right now
I'm going to do something about that tomorrow
I could feel worse
And in my range of emotions
Thatís way above average
Maybe Jesus really is in my corner
Tender is the knife
Which slices and dices and makes Julienne Fries
And cuts through the jugular vein
And ends another human life
In the corners of the night
Tender is the knife
The best friend she has ever had
The only person who has ever understood what she wants
She has always wanted to die
She will never see dawn again
Tender is the knife
In the corners of the night