i thought i had a flitting hope
on a blanket in light i sat around
listening to your meaningful guitar
not hearing the words when i should have

however scary, however mournful
your hands full of dirt
making mountains as uncharted
as both our souls kindling in strange flames

i had callings long ago but they're not you
and i'm sure you have songs to write
but none shall be about me those are for
real people making passion, not a passing kiss

A
flash from beneath the christmas tree
like a person diving in the water
truncated by a fluffy tail, a blur of reality
a ball of fur as fast as lightning
thumping up the stairs
then back down
then back up
then back down

when there's dark, there's no you
big moods, therapy's too expensive
sometimes it's better to lie
than to **** the vibes
and waking from dreams
'cause when there's dark
there's no you and i'm staring
at the ceiling instead of stars

what’s the news—
same old, fussing over holidays
open hand or closed fists
hear the noise on the staircase

what’s that?
christmas eve, just around the corner
you can see the sweet evanescence
in the hanging lights,

like colorful wreathes in our eyes
merciless even when November
is still here, nostalgia sweetens
my blood and melts me to sobbing song

All these boys do is meet
behind the shed, 4:20 alert
dagger of the day climbing rocks
and making bets on their teams
pressing feet on gold coins
dropped from birch trees
and well trodden hills
Idiocy comes in many forms—

I join em and ignore the world
the cries replaying hundreds of time
during the daytime, night time,
onward.

ya throw fits at the mall
speak ***** in a child's voice
i hear delicacy in your dialect
but it's optimism, imagination
on my part, trepidation and mistaken identity
tantrums later, spilled coffee
deforestation in my thought's trees
skinny love, blood in sinks
listening to that song
ya don't dig a whole lot
about him, you don't have a shovel
but you drive your
pink nails in the sheets
it's probably why i can't escape you