in the depths of a dying sunthe truth is free for everyoneto ignore as they please, it’s an evil breezethat cools the core of what went before in the depths of a dying sunwhatever killed it sure was funif you’d have let it slide, just allowed them to hidehindsight was right, fine, but it wasn’t…
millions of picks at your millions of fingertipsbut just the hits, cuz we trimmed all the fatuntil all that’s left is just all that we cut it all up just to cut you a rug, but don’t bug out, manwe’ll shut it all down if word gets around town these selections are choice, my sir…
I just want to meet a backwards girlwho sands down mirrors in a backwards worldwho’s flipped on her side, way out on the sidelineswho loves to live and lives to throw lifelines I just want to know a backwards girlwho’s downright upset with the way my hair curlsbut still rests her head on my weary…
open to it early, I was breathing in fumesthen swelling with delusion, I closed up to youhow insidious it gets, seething with smellhow alarming, the idea of unseen hellI still feel it today, after sleeping so longIt’s not me, I can argue, you’ve got it all wrongbut it seeps out regardless of word or intentand…
a cat in the crescent moonstretched its legs and took one sleepawoke, meowed, and yowledwhen it saw the earth beneath
graceful and bending, until it snapsnow stiffened and upright, wait for the clapsof the audience way beyond your view. they laugh, they cry, their fists in the airthrowing whatever’s under their chairshielded by grace from malicious eyesyou lift up your arms and ask, why? it does nothing to dissuade the discerning massand you’re hit in…
you can take the plastic off but it’ll never go awaysome say the Romans’ wrappers are still here to this day
silent flashes of lightning awoke mefrom violent dreams in which you spoke to methe storm took its sweet time to moveit was hours till the sound of a quiet boomthe form and shape of water on windowdid its deed quickly, said “hi” and “hello”and then it was over, the sun shone brightso i went back…
in velvet liningand crazed comfortyou made me smile oncejust by happenstance and when old age singsand winter sighsthe silent signs make one sound the quiet of eyes, strictly focusedon another pair that matches theirsnot quite level, but generously givesa song of their own
I can’t hear you, the music’s too loudI’ll ask again, but I’m not proudThe buzz of your mouth’s overpowered by the crowdI’ll see myself out