Something Bluesy

Throw it all away for me
Follow through this time
Throw it all away for me
Let me know you’re mine.

I have to keep on the road
You could always fallow
I have to keep down the road
We could live moving without a home.

Throw it all away for me
Love me into the night
Throw it all away for me
Love me through the spite.

I have to keep on the road
But you’re the best damn thing I have know
I have to keep down the road
We could live moving without a home.

Throw it all away for me
Give up them other boys
Throw it all away for me
They were all just toys

I have to keep on the road
I have to keep a clean nose
I have got to keep down the road
But around you, I am home.

Throw it all away for me
I know what you need
Throw it all away for me
I can heal your heart when it bleeds.

Summer

Summer
smells like gasoline
And
forgotten opportunities.
It’s full
of orangish dusks
And
burnt pink mornings,
Concrete cracking heat
And
cooler midnight mournings.
It drains and sours
Slowly
melting with rashes,
But
it lazily lunges
into Fall
With romance,
sweat,
and
passion.

Soft Ladies

The soft ladies refuse to learn
that animals and infants
don’t fucking speak English
and that prodding them actionlessly
will accomplish nothing.

The soft ladies,
somewhere inside of their meaning-well
but decaying minds know this,
and are only really talking
to passerbys hoping that they
will take action in the face
of their failures.

This is why they talk
to animals and infants,
uselessly trying
to force them into
some desired action.

Ledge

The man is ruined.
His wrinkled
brow cowers with undeserved life
in the rainfall of his waning years.
Like a stoic philosopher’s bust
he looks on listlessly
with a pupil-less pride
from a deep milky resolve
into the ghost pastures
where children could scream
youthfully with mouthfuls
of cornelian games alongside
rabbits and royalty.
But those children are coiled now,
swimming as pearls cast by St. Patrick,
and nothing is left to fold delicately
into the old man,
now left with only
the barbs of swollen memories,
sullied by their novel, inflated looming.

Vows

I will tie your corset,
I will bite your neck.
I will whisper in your ears
While I devour your regrets.

I will kiss your eyes,
I will hold your hand.
I will find a breeze to blow
While you wallow in the sands.

I will mix your drinks,
I will make you smile.
I will hold you in the night
While the days die to beguile.