the part that rips me apart
is you play a tough guy on tv
gunslinger with soft hands
that betray the lie in every touch
oh you’re such a character
i wonder sometimes
if i molded you out of my own
synapses and neurons
and quickened heartbeats
do you understand. do you understand. do you understand.
there is no way to stop
the process of aging
on a physical level
so any contract you may have signed
with satan or one of his dudes
simply means you’ll stop developing
& date people in their early 20s
& be vulnerable
to high school bullies
this is not a criticism
it’s only the truth i have been told
you never really feel older
just more experienced
& you’re trapped
in a mind a quarter of a century old
with a bad hip
& bad knees
& bad wings
when you try to connect
the badness shows itself
never together enough
& too many years removed
to effectively grasp the slang
wrinkles don’t help
unless there are fetishes involved
& you probably want to steer clear of those
o lord i find no solace in this
please use your omnipotence
to defend me in my upcoming court case
i will admit to fear
but i would like to age and die
instead of humiliating myself
over and over
i miss knowing
that i was wrong
in the right way
finding
what a beautiful day
to meet myself again
these roots go deep
into soft soil
drinking the rain
and the high speed
on the mountain
good morning darling
let us speak in song
i have so much to sing
i have so much to dance
and we have this chance
i will wear myself out
spinning in my new dress
i will show myself myself
hips and thighs and hands
and heart and mind and
legs
oh dear i have legs
you’ve had time
to learn yourself
but this is new
and wrapped up
like a gift
with a card
you cosigned
so thank you
how about a quick one
i am a patient person
i am a kind person
i am not a person who expects much
i am a person who can be set aside
i am not a person who will complain
i am a person who will support you
but i will be a person
whether you like it or not
oh darling you handed me my shoes
and tied them for me
now watch me walk away
dim bulbs, small village
the problem, always
is the diminishing returns
& at some point you find yourself
in the wee hours drinking wine &
cutting lines to sun kil moon
while the beautiful ones sleep
as if you couldn’t close your own eyes
but you’re hundreds of miles
from anyone who’s ever really given a shit
you could call & get another talk
about worry & your blood pressure
or you could just pour another glass
cut another line
and the truth when you come down to it
is nothing’s worked as well as this
the spiders in your brain are slowly spinning
in patterns you can parse
& it’s okay, for once, to be quiet
if you can ignore the nausea
or just puke & get it over with
you’ve never particularly craved glamour
you understand why jay used the second person
you avoid mirrors and sharp objects
as a general rule this has been helpful
yet here you are & you are
more recognizable than ever
hello stranger
i am sorry to bother you this way
surely you did not expect such a barrage
but i like to talk to strangers
& i think maybe you can understand
i bet mark kozelek has done some drugs
he seems to grasp the need
for softness on the comedown
i need words, i crave words
& my lovers have loud hands
& silent mouths
but heart cannot bargain with mind
so tonight i’m feeding my nose
& this cat
& listening to mark
& talking to you
i hope you are well
i truly hope you are well
i am well
i promise
words as gas as trees as words
there’s probably an extended metaphor
about a car that can go fast as hell
and no doubt for long distances
if you don’t mind the constant presence
of alert lights and the frequent danger
of getting pulled over with no license
but the diminishing returns have hit
and my whole thing right now is
you won’t speak clearly
there’s always some part breaking down
and you send me under the hood
over and over to diagnose
and replace broken things
and you’ve got me back in the metaphor
because it’s a vulnerable thing
admitting you’re off balance
and i know part of you wants me to beg
to see how far you can push me
before i take off my seat belt
and hit the gas as hard as i can
but i know you’ve got a brick wall
all planned out and built
and baby i love you
but i ain’t driving drunk tonight
and i’m back in the fucking metaphor
goddamnit
buried bullets
i’m hiding out no more
than ever before in my life
i have obscured myself
through exposure
begging to be discovered
wishing to be found
you hear these stories
about buried stars
treasure hidden
in the smallest of towns
you hear these stories
about dreams in good sleep
and we all know it’s rare
but we all think
we’re the special ones
at least i do
so i lie
in wait
and pretend
i don’t care
it’ll happen
when the time is right
all flowers etc
yet
i’m still trying to read my own map
the only one who’s cared to find me
is me
and yes that’s part of why i hide
if i want to be seen
it’ll take a lot of digging
and i am very tired
m+m 5ever
we’ve had a good run
you and me and these synths
got this plan in place
& a place i’ve planned
& plates & planes & pilots
we’ve got no time to spare
get me alone i’ll say it again
& again & again then again
everything is synthesized
false light in false eyes
you want me to fix that?
it’s a great day for nothing
gloomy gloomy outside holy holy
we’ve got angels touching down
sobbing in their sleep
& the whole mountain seems
coated in sweat and vomit and piss
at least it’s a break from gravity
the leaf believes in the carrying wind
the knot in your tongue
will kill you in the end
rhymes with noose
mess with those country boys
& you’ll understand a whole genre
of breakup songs
my man done stole my heart
& my money
& drank both of em away
we ain’t right for nothin
but yodelayeehoo
shore is easy to fall
in some kinda love
in a golden sunset
in a pine grove
in those eyes