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she's so withdrawn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

kings

my eyeballs are dry and i'm wondering why
i'm so damn unsatisfied
the snow won't be 'round long and i'm done being wrong
but i'm so damn unsatisfied

i know there's a time when i need to give in
it doesn't matter
i don't even know what i'm trying to win

it feels like i'm smashing an empty pinata
it feels like playing kings by myself
it's hedonistic
it's intrinsic

and i feel so empty when i'm not pessimistic

a vacancy proceeds
whether my heads up high
or on my knees
so i'll fill it up
with a paper cup
full of pills

just kiss them back until you can't
until you don't feel better

beer tears

liquid gold is tumbling down
changing nothing it surrounds
it taints already tainted parts
but it feels as good as fucking you
it makes me feel like touching you
when all my body feels is pain
a string of lights surrounds me
but my eyes remain
on the ground

i never said this isn't me
sadness blooms from my being
i try to make the garden full
so the weed won't penetrate me
but it keeps on generating
so hold me tight now, baby
'cos i keep looking to the past
the lists of plans i made in oakland
the promises i made to him
keep making them to each new man
it's finally time to burn those plans

for now, i'll keep swimming
wading through the grainy colors
tomorrow you'll be just another

another winter

this seat warms my back my ass my legs
and i don't feel a thing that's out of place
the miles and miles of street lights we follow
they don't bother me tonight
i'm bathing in that bright orange light

it's so soft and colorful and deep in my chest
it's the chilly lace that appears as your breath
it's the ribbon that links two bodies together
thickening as you wait for the culmination
the most bittersweet frustration

it's a waiting game now
i'm checking my cell phone
to look for the time
'cos he just called me his own

he's in the car now and he feels up her tits
god knows if he's picturing some other chick
i don't think she cares
'cos those hands feel so good
and the air gets hotter
and her eyes look so green
he won't see the beauty
he's going so quick

so glad we didn't let that bomb hit the ground
what begins in chaos ends in chaos
everything is now draped so anxiously good
but whatever, who cares
we'll bring it all down