Can I let you in on a little something
That to me has been wrong way rubbing
While some folk might think it's nothing
Like kissing on a second cousin

But something about this don't seem right
Now I ain't trying to start no fight
All depends on your appetite
On what you do and do not like

But me, I don't like all the complaining
Especially from those misbehaving
Gets my head all into aching
Which happens a lot these days lately

They expect us all to follow along
But what if we don't dance to that song
Can you tell me what about that is wrong
Aren't we all individuals

I guess they expect you to go with the crowd
Not to think or do by yourself
Be a good little sheeple now
Tell you when and where to bow down

Have they ever thought of discussing
In a calm voice without the cussing
Maybe then we'd all learn something
Cause all of this whining is unbecoming

That's about all I gotta say
I'm tired of being rubbed the wrong way
To me, this ain't okay
Oh and by the way...have a nice day

Old lion
Mangy mane,
Draped over thorny bough,
Eyelids flipping flies.

Esses bring down
Some poor horned
Soul.

Down climb and
Belly growl,
Take tender parts.

Too idle to branch,
Sleep on sandy floor
In lovely shade.

I'm one of those blessed I know
To get along with my toes
So I took time out in my day
To give them all different names

The big toe I have on the right
I gave him the name of Frank
You may ask the reason why
But frankly it's escaped my mind

The one that's sitting next to him
I went ahead and named him Slim
Skinny is as skinny does
And he's the skinniest of the toes

Then there's the one in the middle
He's the one that loves to wiggle
So he needs a special name
And that is why I call him Dave

The toe that is next in line
Has gotten crooked over time
So I nicknamed him Senator
Which seems to suit him fine

And then there's little Pinky
But doesn't everyone I'm thinking
Try as hard as I might a new name to find
Pinky's the name that comes to mind

Don't you know when it comes to toes
And you have more than one of those
To cut out on the confusion
I gave them all names of my choosing

marijuana, fourth of july,
and even then
that anthony bourdain look in your eye

never did know
how much i could relate

and that’s what i do these days,
i relate and relate

soon it will be time to remember
you'll be gone four years already,
and i've lived the kind of life
that knows better than to face you
around or gone four years already

Curled against me at any time of day
Stronger than iron, we are one

My son pitches himself against me
In every way, last gasp,

Puberty can’t be avoided
It will end the innocence of

Desperate devotion between us
As it always has been meant to do

Pain, such cleaving pain,
I reject it for now

Give me one more, no
Give us two more years to live like

This, oh please,
This World will wait

A bit longer
To devour him

Run the bow across the strings,
and play a tune.

Play my soundtrack.

Play it soft yet sharp
and wrenching.

Play it in the background.
Let the notes run in conflict,
depict agitation and foster
an increasing sense of foreboding.



Because I lay still this night
in perfect disharmony.

Time took my baby
and later took my pain
now it shortens time it takes
till I see her again

When I'm feeling heartache
living pure misery
Time can bleed away the hurt
that eats away at me

Time isn't perfect
it won't erase the pain
as long as there are memories
the hurt will rise again

Time took my darling
and now it's taking me
So now I'm waiting to arrive
at my final destiny