my father told me that i looked like a mental institution
with sleep and sea-salt in my hair
sipping strawberry lemonade in the backyard
high on insulin
your tongue is wry like chalk
when you swallow sad boy symphonies
stumbling in your own vision of paradise
cooking up a dream with your head inside your heart
they heard what you said, once the herd was gone
i'm the only one who reminds you of lost days
you said that this was what you liked about me most
lost cause-poetry
don't blow up my garden
you can't even make it snow in july

*(k.w)