Wednesday, December 16, 2009

People say friends don't destroy one another, what do they know about friends?

It's all pockets.
Yours, ripped clean through
From a night when we were happy
And I followed you home on your motorcycle
You laid the bike down-- showing off
Circling a monument to a dead villain war hero
The pocket, the only casualty.
My heart lodged between my teeth for an hour afterward
That was when I realized just how much I cared. I didn't tell you.
You wear the pants every day still
A monument to the idea of charmed existence, to lady luck.

And my pocket, now
Where I put these things away:
An owl feather, the damaged lone ranger postcard, the idea of a letter
never sent, Oregon, toy tigers, the good and bad stomach aches, silk
flowers and bolo ties, Bonnie and Clyde...

And so I slip my foot into another pocket
The one on the dash of my timebomb of a car
Knee above shoulder
And I blow out my speakers and my vocal chords
And I sing.

Fuck I miss you.

1 comment:

alicevirginia said...

remember how we would sing rilo kiley in
fake accents loudly on the highway?
remember when you got in trouble from the LAW
for listening to music too loud?

do you know cocorosie's 'the animals'
it's what i blast these days nice and loud
love youlove you