jesse is sleeping 4

tired of my fucking muse
politely i say, please get out of my head
i can't count the adjectives i drew up
to place you
to erase you

i swear that every line i rhymed since i met you
i may have scrawled but you put in place
i swear that every single mistake that i made here
has been some fucked up way of making it through

don't get me wrong
i am crazy
i have always been crazy
but i have never been so in the wrong

god, i thought the drugs i did
left a stamp on my brain
but your's is in invisible ink
i'll never find it
i'll never get back sync

tired of my fucking muse
politely i say, please get out of my head
all the beautiful things i've written of you
they make me sick
they make me confused

when i lay down to sleep
all i feel is those scarred arms
that took away the evil inside
so i get up and paint the walls
a color that will calm the withdraw

you'll only fucking have me
when you cannot fucking have me
but you know you'll always have me
reluctant lover

that's why the beautiful things
they make me sick
they make me confused
you make me confused

my fucking muse
oh, look
i've made another poem out of you

venus/shiva

She lied when she said I love you
To a handful of boys she knew
She saw in their eyes what she felt before
But could not seem to renew
At least six eyes, so soulful and wide
She could not help but turn away
For she was committing the ultimate crime
But still, she cries

Tied up to her ankles
Following her steps
She dragged them down the stairwell
Never cutting the heel's noose

They bruise their skin to black and blue
Until they break their necks

The Venus, the Shiva
Severing the cord too late
The little boys gaze at their savior
With eyes full of hate
But still, she weeps

Full of regret

She will never know who she was trying to save
The poor little boys who revered the goddess
Or the goddess herself

mon valley

empty mills lining the shore
their empty promises
that make your eyes sore
but we look to them and smile
we think of the past
our fathers, our grandfathers
always looking back
they have nothing to give you
they have everything to hide
their eyes shine and turn away
when their children ask why
no answer to give
no explanation to tell
of the smoky old valley
that makes their hearts swell
hot metal and fumes
burn the trees on the hills
the people
depression
the memories
chilled
so they sit back
watch the fire
take another pill

jesse is sleeping 3

your mouth filled with knives
cut into my skin
they dig a hole
you fill it up
so i will never die

yet feel the pain of empty flesh
every moment
i feel it tear
and every second
i know you're there

"you are not worth it" you say
you turn away from any pain
like a syringe
withdrawing feeling
wash them away in the june rain

or bury them deep within your core
if that's the case
i'll wait forever
until you're sure
you want me more

baby longing

Almost fifty years later
Sunday morning still comes
There's three hours to kill
I imagine the one
My ferry, my church
He's setting me straight
In some crooked way

His American Dream is holding up
Though I can see that it is not enough
He wants Italian food
Made with electric heat
A groovy record
The heavy beat
While the kids carry on
The wife's in the john
Crushing up her prescriptions
They cradle their addictions
And their children
And the years go by

His American Dream
Tradition's key
Clay you can knead
A pot for your seed
Whatever you need, baby

1976

you look absolutely ravishing
in that black spandex top
and those tight tight jeans
and i know exactly what you mean
it takes you back years
to a time we didn't know
a time when everything was new
an era where everything flowed

i'm not from that place
but our music takes us back
and even though my chest is flat
like the prairies
i can feel the way you touch me
the way you're looking for the curve
as our bodies swerve
in tune to those old tunes

you are a couple years ahead
but all i can think of is my body in your bed
soft flesh that shudders in your arms
and then i'm dead

thirty one

point forward to tomorrow
grin back at yesterday
the present is full of sleepless nights
one of us always pays

we made love on a rooftop garden
in a windy place of a foreign land
memories flow back from that night
but now i seal the pain that binds your hands

just a retrospection
a savior and one lost
but what a shame
love often leads
to signals that are crossed

when she is here but she is gone
standing on your dirty lawn
standing in your dirty thoughts
no words
no mouth
she's so withdrawn

she said no
love will not come
so will you wait
or embrace decay

the choice is yours
i hope you stay