Snatching at the hours,
I point my feet
Like a clock at twelve
And imagine hands.
I’d like to call you,
I’d like to tell you
That I’m thinking about
Walking to the countryside.
I’d like to tell you
That this highness
Doesn’t feel royal,
And that I can’t stop
Thinking
Of beheaded ancestors
And bolt-headed cattle,
Loveable tortures,
Millions of wandering dogs.
I want to call you and
Reel off a list of
Everything that’s ever happened,
All the people in the world
Who have made love at
Deeply
Satisfying
Angles,
I want to call you,
Pump you with blood,
My fingers rabbiting
Through a snug warren -
Bright Eyes,
Bulldozer,
Wanna call you
And say
'How could he do it to me?'
And in the same breath,
'Imagine me on my knees,
Oh, uh,
Fuck my mouth from
A distance -
But,
But,
How could he do it?'
Wanna call you
Because I’m not happy at all,
The universe is sitting
On my head,
Need to call you,
All tied up in a tangle
Baby,
I know the histories of
All the trees
And I want to pour over maps
Today.
I want to call you,
I've got so many questions.
I’d like to call you
And ask you
Why I’m not dead.
No melodrama,
No pressure,
But I’m gonna really need an answer.