(2015)
let’s put all the stupid things in a pile and call them “love” or “worry” or
shall we turn down the covers, crawl inside? find there a place that’s been waiting for us, a vortex of sorts
when (finally) we meet I’m thinking spring wildflowers will bloom on high
like bell bottoms or disco but we need it to think i’m dead
there are never really any angels in god’s company, it really just pretends them
here in the middle of the bottom of the lie how obvious
was all stupid. you weren’t that entertaining. i find it all only sad now, that
if ever someone is my dearest ear who hears my truth as theirs
bring me things to break myself upon till
does a king come ready– made, or doesn’t he emerge from a prince once a frog, and aren’t you
love me past the edges, stances and masks, deeper than i know things.
of course it is not about you. you have to know this, like baby birds know worms come with mother’s return,
of the things that make me become better only music is unlike surgery
we go walking around walking all over this town nothing ever getting us down cause we’re just a couple of clown…
dopplergangers in case you both explode, who knows it could happen, true love too qui… like a limerick, obvious stupid si… like things aren’t. also, angular