| bad habit |
| trip (the parade song) |
| evan's song |
| ballad for an insomniac |
| muddy summer |
| love letter |
| brooklyn |
| lady justice |
| at last |
| thursday |
| goodnight to boston |
| convex |
| gifted |
muddy
summer
thanks to becca
she clears away the suitcases, vinyl, & the clothes,
looking for something new under the floorboards
but she's lost it now, there's nothing found,
except a marker & her sking she'll have another round if she can,
so out on the back porch, her & the bugs have themselves a feast,
she eats the trees & leaves & takes it to the streets
same old crowd, same old stoplight, same old catfight,
same old "shit, I'm out of luck", she wonders if she'll ever give
it up some night
since when has
my prime been the broken sleep time
between the bathroom stall kisses & scrambled egg "rise and shine"
didn't I yell, baby, didn't I shine
for all my heart, my pride, my sisters marching down that line
since you left,
I've been looking in the mirror,
wearing make up, not proof of how your love broke me in
not a shot at my docile feminism, just a testament to vanity & my bad
skin
but loneliness is a creep of a boy and
dirt is an inset, another stage set for muddy summer
just another "almost" - almost widespread, almost half-dead, almost
force-fed,
almost who I wish you could've been instead
since when has
my prime been the broken sleep time
between the bathroom stall kisses & scrambled egg "rise and shine"
didn't I yell, baby, didn't I shine
for all my heart, my pride, my sisters marching down that line
she told me
"always watch your feet and never look before you run"
it's just addiction, benediction, intoxication, asphyxiation
she told me I should keep my sublimation to a minimum
but I don't think I could want any less of any one
well I've stopped
banking on what you'd pay to see me
play, sing, or whatever little thing you'd ask of me
my old guitar's holding flowers, just a hollow jar
she'd rather give herself over to beauty anyhow,
so between the skyscrapers, I poke & prod,
bleed to my heart's content down my legs to the cement
& grab my camera to pretend I'm doing something
while I wait for life to hit me
[but what if she's not coming?]
since when has
my prime been the broken sleep time
between the bathroom stall kisses & scrambled egg "rise and shine"
didn't I yell, baby, didn't I shine
for all my heart, my pride, my sisters marching down that line




