Five miles south - from "Northwest Passage," pilot episode

Up towards a sign that reads,
"Welcome to Twin Peaks, Population 51,201,"
trees growing all around,
there are a few things
we ought to get straight:
the weatherman said rain and
I'm riding on fumes
five miles south of the
Canadian border, west of the state line,
and that girl they
pulled off the mountain, well,
I've learned this the hard way,
shaken, shaken.

In the lights - from "Northwest Passage," pilot episode

What has happened,
your attention missing
since last night.
I suffered the loss of emotion
in empty storms,
reckless wind
off the highway
in the lights.
I have decided that today
all work here will stop,
extend into thin life,
a black patch of speed.
Nightfall drapes the hallway,
a folded note of steep decline.
Perhaps I will be full
once again.

In a dark thicket - from "Northwest Passage," pilot episode

I heard
she was the one,
standing bruised,
bra and panties and
bloodied bare feet.
To speak aimlessly,
choking back a
dark thicket is to cut
the oxygen in an act of
helpless care,
a dead state.
Brutalized,
it is helpless
to give.

Signals - from "Northwest Passage," pilot episode

You were getting ready for bed,
prayers quietly urgent,
a fractured syntax of signals.
White-haired words
in the last night of rest,
you didn't come to
gently question comfort.
The body was found in words,
the loss of good wishes
to guide our thoughts,
halt the day.
You shut down,
returning to silence,
the red stress of abandon.

Collected Evidence - from "Northwest Passage," pilot episode

It would have been about
the time she fades,
interrogation an overhead light
to say goodnight,
close to asking
for an end.
It passes unobtrusively,
brushing her initials,
dreamy letters on an
unmade bed.
I can tell from the sounds
that it isn't her,
locked footsteps,
a diary of searching embossed
as collected evidence.
Do you have to take
my exchange?
Say anything into the camera.
I don't know where
the key is.

Quiet concern - from "Northwest Passage," pilot episode

Gathered on a voice, breaking,
we come to rest,
raising destruction,
sleeve rolling down,
an injection of
discreet distance.
Discarding the syringe,
we stay on the photo,
questioning what time it was
you last saw silence.

Join me in observing
cold shoulders
covering up dear memory.
Compress the emotional,
a trophy of disbelief.
Another girl among the
quiet concern,
streaming the sedative
taking effect.

Fades of attention - from "Northwest Passage," pilot episode

You think we're gonna
talk about this later,
suspending a terrible moment
to slowly drift
down the corridor,
echoing arguments,
the announcement to come
through this.
I am in and out,
fades of attention,
the sound of empty glass.
We pass different rooms.
This is important.
Go ahead. Practice your
system of partitions
before we leave.
I have you
over yesterday,
out of voice.
Ask: May I have your cries?
Forward, we try.

Tell me about the dead - from "Northwest Passage," pilot episode

Red-eyed behind the rumors
I arrange the morning
to be with you,
talk some more.
Laura Palmer's been killed,
found just after dawn
to say it'd be best if
it's all over.
Tell me about the dead,
the night, frightened of
what you didn't feel.
I didn't know why
I got upset and
you weren't where you were supposed to be.
Please call.
I got up early
just to understand.

Bobby Briggs, they're looking for you - from "Northwest Passage," pilot episode

Something's up.
You think I'm kidding
covered with goosebumps,
the speed of fear calling the roll,
one empty seat in the room.
Could I speak to you for a moment, please?
Lights flashing, a haunted cluster
in the courtyard, mask unsettled.
Down to cruising speed,
accelerator off, sharing a
quivering lip, interior emotions
you can't continue.

Fade In - from "Northwest Passage," pilot episode

You called me last night
from around a corner
highly suggestive,
a dirty sigh
against the headrest,
an hour steep
into reverse.
What stage are we in now?
Relief collapses,
end act one,
a structure on the edge.
Close to memorial,
you sure talked me frantically
out of the house,
back to the road.

Lucky Highway - from "Northwest Passage," pilot episode

She knows about us,
blushes under breath.
Change always rises
on time and
I gotta go.
Make sure no one is watching.

My dreams
a lucky highway
blaring home,
my car slightly guilty.
I could drop, embarrassed
easily exchange the old,
your only exit.

Slim heart - from "Northwest Passage," pilot episode

Let me drive you
back towards a
young pause,
a letter jacket and
a ready high,
re-establish the
former points of beauty.

This grief, well-preserved,
rushes a wail
from inside,
forty year old cry you
understand as a doorway
to the other.

Warm up the slim heart.
We should go.

Until I get there - from "Northwest Passage," pilot episode

On the phone in the kitchen
lighting another cigarette
I want the first hint of alarm,
want you to tell me to
calm down, darling,
I'm on my way home.

What's this about:
trembling,
seeing it all unglued,
the morning overcome, then,
the number of one
struggling.

Cover what you did, please.
Let's not walk towards the hysterical
until I get there.

Interpreter - from "Northwest Passage," pilot episode

Repeat what you told me:
that it never felt so good
to dissolve,
discreetly minimal
this quality of life
to rival red-shaded whispers.
Permit me a moment,
an interpreter at the head of
each sentence of your chest,
your right hand.
Proposed growth
stands on a map, ghostwood environs,
the air a concerned expansion
as you see the words.
Move to me.
The middle of
this excuse is a clean translation.
You'll see what I can offer.