You said this place
would grind down on tired hearts
I towed my line, now I'll die on the sidewalk
the second the snow thaws.
So bury me salted, so I season the runoff.
Your hands claw, climbing
tear at skin and the topsoil,
grinding teeth down on pay dirt
then back-fill the screaming blanks
This city's swelling up
it's growing livid with stories
left untold beneath street lights,
so sharp-footed walkers
drain its veins after midnight.
And you're filled up--had enough
of the graphite sky.
but my
2 cents, flung into the Clark Fork
say I'm still zipped up
in the peppery cold and the dark
Still socked in,
write your name out in graphite
'til ink-dark clouds bruise the day through the sunlight
The swelling's going down, now
I'll die on the sidewalk
and knocked down pegs
leave the story untold and forgot.
Nov 11, 2013
Nov 11, 2013 at 5:55 PM UTC
You said this place
would grind down on tired hearts
I towed my line, now I'll die on the sidewalk
the second the snow thaws.
So bury me salted, so I season the runoff.
Your hands claw, climbing
tear at skin and the topsoil,
grinding teeth down on pay dirt
then back-fill the screaming blanks
This city's swelling up
it's growing livid with stories
left untold beneath street lights,
so sharp-footed walkers
drain its veins after midnight.
And you're filled up--had enough
of the graphite sky.
but my
2 cents, flung into the Clark Fork
say I'm still zipped up
in the peppery cold and the dark
Still socked in,
write your name out in graphite
'til ink-dark clouds bruise the day through the sunlight
The swelling's going down, now
I'll die on the sidewalk
and knocked down pegs
leave the story untold and forgot.
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