The mountain bone
nicks the night
chews it bleeding bright
rare and charred
And your heart
is in your mouth
as you slide through the snow
to that black maw
I know you well
I know you well, hate.
We should talk it out
over a beer
tell me how's that:
Lanky, clumsy, bruised girl
jaw pulling that smile
as wide as it would go --
sit with me a while.
Tell me the spring showed up
white love notes
on the branches, the breeze
past the bricks: it floats
And everything's back
so dream of Cairo
and Royal Purple New York City
her Bowery orange with pistols
her gutters thick with beer
And I know you well
I know you well, hate.
Sing that sad song of yours
take me the places your mind
has lingered, loving, ill and unwelcome
No comments:
Post a Comment