1. |
thesis
02:35
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your sister is one of the worst people i've ever met
she mocked my two roses
she gave me some money at christmas
and told me not to spend it on alcohol
two doses of "prescripted" medication
for my mother's depression
that insurance won't cover
some sort of inflation
i know i've written these words before
and when i get home you'll deliver a critical report
but i know we're not that different
you jerk off to the same porn
and your black vans
are just as worn
vincent was everything but
courageous in sorrow
vincent reminds us all
to have patience for tomorrow
am i a lap dog or am i a muppet
an identity crisis spurred by a couple of puppets
realized you couldn't calculate
the moral worth
of aroma comas
or unintended birth
and i have to live with the guilt
that comes with a heart i broke
don't get choked
you can make it through this night
i hope
i have climbed a very slippery slope
after my contributions caused a negative reaction
the salted pavement paused
it gave me a little traction
in the cold i came to your door, the worst i've been since
and i stood there on your porch,
and pinned up my thesis
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2. |
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ever since i left that city you
follow routines
and cuff your jeans
appreciate the thought of love as a confession
appreciate what you please.
no. appreciate nothing.
you are granted everything.
i've treated you so badly, and i'm sorry.
the pink contrasts the hickey that is on your neck
the blue contrasts the pale face that trusts in your attempt
you're gonna leave with intentions not made too clear
in dialogue in the stories that you whisper in my ear
i am different.
sing him another song about the great sex that you've been having
while he severs another couple of nerves.
your sin runs out of things convex
and he's not attaching himself
to himself
or anybody else.
passenger seat evening in august
with an aux cord use your words the word you chose was toxic
and she loved the concrete the same year that october
"it's purple at dusk, contrasts with the day, so that i know it is over"
i am the same.
passenger seat evening
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3. |
tenderhead
02:56
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countless times, you have said
you wish that we had our own bed
but this couch will have to do for now.
"most times, the sound of love
is an american welcome rug,"
is what you always told me.
so the smell of shared cigarettes
will be all that she has left
when she comes running back to me.
so it's dull as the rain
as i sit and i contemplate
your self-prescribed struggle.
storage space and yellow days
and stacks and stacks of dirty trays
these things buried tenderheaded scars.
and i'll keep on these dirty jeans
another step in the cycle of your dreams
but i can't get past my stubborn realities
so when you leave for washington
or when you leave for california
i will not say a thing.
but left here on suburban streets
thoughtless words will come to gather me
and i will know that i have not been saved
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4. |
rose, cold
02:48
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i've extended olive branch problems
but you're an ugly bird, perched, that can't solve them.
with a nest made of your favorite cigarette butts
collected off ex-lovers, memories
and cut
to another scene of even less significance
starring separate tired metaphors and kiss me by sixpence
in the reality of which, you lie awake
dreaming vividly, for quill pen irony's sake.
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