Suzanne takes you down to her place near the river
You can hear the boats go by
You can spend the night beside her
And you know that she's half crazy
But that's why you want to be there
And she feeds you tea and oranges
That come all the way from China
And just when you mean to tell her
That you have no love to give her
Then she gets you on her wavelength
And she lets the river answer
That you've always been her lover
And you want to travel with her
And you want to travel blind
And you know that she will trust you
For you've touched her perfect body with your mind.
And Jesus was a sailor
When he walked upon the water
And he spent a long time watching
From his lonely wooden tower
And when he knew for certain
Only drowning men could see him
He said "All men will be sailors then
Until the sea shall free them"
But he himself was broken
Long before the sky would open
Forsaken, almost human
He sank beneath your wisdom like a stone
And you want to travel with him
And you want to travel blind
And you think maybe you'll trust him
For he's touched your perfect body with his mind.
Now Suzanne takes your hand
And she leads you to the river
She is wearing rags and feathers
From Salvation Army counters
And the sun pours down like honey
On our lady of the harbour
And she shows you where to look
Among the garbage and the flowers
There are heroes in the seaweed
There are children in the morning
They are leaning out for love
And they will lean that way forever
While Suzanne holds the mirror
And you want to travel with her
And you want to travel blind
And you know that you can trust her
For she's touched your perfect body with her mind.

I live the life of a loner.

I'll pop over a friends house on my bike
for a couple hours, and it's cool
I really have a great assortment of friends

But everywhere I go
I wonder if those kids I'm looking for
Are right on the other side of that wall

How do I get there from here?
My eyes are flitting, ticking time bombs

I like my alone time, lone wolf adventures,
Plugged in, unplugged, cityscape, outbound, whatever.

But I need house shows and young punks.
Drunk nights (I may or may not be drunk) and water guns
filled with beer? that'd be interesting.

Be patient, give it time. You're not done yet,
You're still young. Get through the probation,
Show them you really mean it, actually try
And relax because you're good.

Watch it take hold

I can not find the letter mother left me four days
before her death. I read it once and then placed

it in a cardboard box like you might a dull
knife or a ******* tin. The letter is

a part me, like Van Gogh’s severed
ear was to him. I want the letter

like love or sight; the way bone
                               needs marrow.

I am turning 18 years old
In one part of me lives a child
Full of wonder and hope
And in another lives a woman
Wise beyond her years
Neither of them fit my 18 year old body
If I am the woman
I am too mature
And too cold
And if I am the child
I am too naïve
And too trusting
I am turning 18 years old
And I'm lost in my own mind.