Rain falls, cats and dogs, the gutter’s clogged, your mother calls.
She’s on the phone, but you’re all alone, listening to the dial tone.
You’re in a soft place, off in space, remembering her gorgeous face.
Minutes tick, the fuse is lit, burning down the wick, nothing sticks.
I’m sometimes torpid, sometimes vapid, my heart beats rapid
when you’re standing close, nibbling on my ear like a rabbit.
The water runs down the street, carrying with it oil and blood,
like our own little George Bush war, the curbs flushed with it!
I peer out the window, loving/despising everything I see.
Come with me, let’s take a trip through this town,
wear your oversized glasses, smile your lovely smile.
Everyone we meet thinks thoughts just like yours,
suffering exalted beauty, celebrating numinous horror.
I bleed sweat. Sweat blood.
Neil Gaiman gave a talk at UCLA. I didn’t attend.
Rhett Miller played at the troubadour. I didn’t go.
Call me on my cell phone…
give me cancer.
Buy me a drink…
ruin my liver.
cause me despair.
I want to be hostage
to your heart!
The rain continues to pour, I continue to gush like a flood.
This heart is itemized and you lost the receipt.
These are the best days of our lives and I want them to end.
They clamor at the castle wall, begging for a glimpse of your dress.
I was born frangible and fragile.
I was raised in a graveyard by wolves.
I was baptized in a jar of lemonade and lyrics.
Razorblades floating down the street now.
The whole city is floating down the street.
Flushed out to sea.
Won’t you grab hold of me, and pull me down with you?
These sheets undulate with you and me underneath,
won’t you interlope in my world for a second, a minute,
a lifetime perhaps?
I promise to be good…