Cold hands. More specifically
cold fingertips. Cut out to California.
Low sunsets and vino and long drives.
Cut out to Great Lakes and oh Canada.
Cut out to Florida and swamp and fauna.
Territory. Cold hands and cold fingertips.
Armor up. Cans and fire and goodies.
Chiefing. Cause for concern. Cloud
voice. All in a handshake. No kings, no queens,
just seams.
original works of parts
Dear God, Walk With Me For a Minute
Hold my hand, baby please.
Your skin
against.
Battle with me. Course the skys and
maybe we can cheers on the weekends.
Bumpers and junk. I'm okay with that.
Trying to get back where, you know. Ya kno?
Different ways. I know I'm not a kid or a kid at heart,
but could you hold my hand?
I don't want it, I need it. It's been hard. Difficulty comes
when I expect least
and the seasons are changing and I looked both ways
so please, hold my goddamn hand
while my other peels and eats an orange
and it goes down my shirt.
Your skin
against.
Battle with me. Course the skys and
maybe we can cheers on the weekends.
Bumpers and junk. I'm okay with that.
Trying to get back where, you know. Ya kno?
Different ways. I know I'm not a kid or a kid at heart,
but could you hold my hand?
I don't want it, I need it. It's been hard. Difficulty comes
when I expect least
and the seasons are changing and I looked both ways
so please, hold my goddamn hand
while my other peels and eats an orange
and it goes down my shirt.
Gun Metal
Shooting yourself in the face is a lie
told several times over, I know I'm shy, but
everything comes to a head some days
and everyone has to find their own ways and
painting pictures with the side of your brain
no way to begin to explain that
sometimes you need it on the wall
twelve gauge telling you, that you can stop it all
you can stop the voices and make you moose,
you can horn it up and take that choose
the out is there, sitting behind your head
close the books and let her fly
close conversations and take a skip.
To have it and taste and play. That's all.
Feel the deck beneath the liner,
the Great Lakes and be the ship.
Some people need body pillows.
Some people need focus.
Some people need a magic word
or machine and metal and a little hocus.
told several times over, I know I'm shy, but
everything comes to a head some days
and everyone has to find their own ways and
painting pictures with the side of your brain
no way to begin to explain that
sometimes you need it on the wall
twelve gauge telling you, that you can stop it all
you can stop the voices and make you moose,
you can horn it up and take that choose
the out is there, sitting behind your head
close the books and let her fly
close conversations and take a skip.
To have it and taste and play. That's all.
Feel the deck beneath the liner,
the Great Lakes and be the ship.
Some people need body pillows.
Some people need focus.
Some people need a magic word
or machine and metal and a little hocus.
Horse Blinders
Chomping at the bit. Chomping at the bit. Chomping at the bit.
I howl. I can't fix it. But I can change. No, seriously.
I howl. I want something else to it. There isn't.
Stay alert.
I howl. I can't fix it. But I can change. No, seriously.
I howl. I want something else to it. There isn't.
Stay alert.
Process
Leaves on the ground again. You've lived well, haven't you. A wink
and a finger gun missing a finger nail. I don't need to lick the tip anymore
to get a good read on the wind anymore. Fresh skin is easier.
Able to do it. Breath in air on rocks. There was a man walking against
traffic on William Flynn. I thought I hit him, but I only hit his rucksack
with my fender. It flew like a deer stuffed with cotton, or clothing.
People come out of nowhere, don't they? Wish condensing air from
our mouths was cigarette smoke. Hands rest inches on the iron grate table.
"Do you feel like coffee?" Inside the shop are student teacher meetings
and more people than anyone should want to be. "It's too hot, sorry."
I don't think I feel like coffee, my notebook away from foot traffic.
Thank you for asking. Fingertips draw apart. "Do you smoke?"
I don't like to. "Yes." Do you? I haven't seen any squirrels in a long time.
Nature is off its bees again. Maybe. Snow is the great equalizer.
Your eyes are diamonds. Mine too. This afternoon, you and I are
street vendors.
and a finger gun missing a finger nail. I don't need to lick the tip anymore
to get a good read on the wind anymore. Fresh skin is easier.
Able to do it. Breath in air on rocks. There was a man walking against
traffic on William Flynn. I thought I hit him, but I only hit his rucksack
with my fender. It flew like a deer stuffed with cotton, or clothing.
People come out of nowhere, don't they? Wish condensing air from
our mouths was cigarette smoke. Hands rest inches on the iron grate table.
"Do you feel like coffee?" Inside the shop are student teacher meetings
and more people than anyone should want to be. "It's too hot, sorry."
I don't think I feel like coffee, my notebook away from foot traffic.
Thank you for asking. Fingertips draw apart. "Do you smoke?"
I don't like to. "Yes." Do you? I haven't seen any squirrels in a long time.
Nature is off its bees again. Maybe. Snow is the great equalizer.
Your eyes are diamonds. Mine too. This afternoon, you and I are
street vendors.
Iron Galaxy Chaser
Stupid fuck, stupid fuck, stupid, fuck. Stupid. Fuck.
How the hell did you fall for that. Twice. I know.
250 miles to not get kissed? I know.
250 miles to get fucked? I know!
250 miles to get what? I know!!
"A wise man puts his filings in a bin.
a foolish man poops gold plated license plates."
Said no one ever. Shut the fuck up. Jesus Christ.
Yes, invoking capital letters because I hate you that much.
If the galaxy was made of iron
and a person had enough supplies in tow
the nearest star would be
a trail hike several a many afternoon
tire kicking sometimes rock skipping
tits out shoes off back on
hand in pocket eyebrow adjusting
wedgie undoing phone checking
earring adjusted fingertipping stroll.
How the hell did you fall for that. Twice. I know.
250 miles to not get kissed? I know.
250 miles to get fucked? I know!
250 miles to get what? I know!!
"A wise man puts his filings in a bin.
a foolish man poops gold plated license plates."
Said no one ever. Shut the fuck up. Jesus Christ.
Yes, invoking capital letters because I hate you that much.
If the galaxy was made of iron
and a person had enough supplies in tow
the nearest star would be
a trail hike several a many afternoon
tire kicking sometimes rock skipping
tits out shoes off back on
hand in pocket eyebrow adjusting
wedgie undoing phone checking
earring adjusted fingertipping stroll.
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