dead man cutthroat / rain

[dead man]

maybe

you're something in the rain
i could watch from the window
while i wonder in vain, why
there's nothing to show
for what we sustained. lakeside coming of age.
flesh sand water we change. praying mantis in chains
force of friction. rearrange into a palace. persuade
me to build another kingdom for your jesters to wave
king cobra cortical, tarantula brain
caffeinated coffee grounds, cremated remains
cutthroat calculated casanova common as grass
calcified chrysanthemum, a boulder to pass
kidney stone-age caveman dwell like poets of past
afraid to leave the stoop-kid if he happens to ask
how it came about. i'm happy now. i'm somewhere complete.
where i struggle to speak
that sentence through the tongue in my cheek.
jawbone carving chisel like a muscled physique
throwing rocks in the creek. skipping surface ripple release
your face reminds me of weeks. seconds hours and days
i was hourly wage. you were salaries and 401k's
i was out of excuses, you were out to engage
via chorus lines of shit you heard your counselor say.
sinkhole mud scummy centipede who crawled to escape
a falling grenade. oscillating. i'm a fan with a blade
cutthroat calibre chromatic light revolvers ablaze
six-shot barrel-rolling oiled leather holster the waist
wasteland apotheosis slowly sink into shade
skin bubbles black vampiric fangs constricting your veins
quasi-author, sole creation: my cathartic enslavement
plaster mache mock machismo. masked marauder in pain
heart and mind and gene design, the home of the bravest
paper walls, when nature calls it's 1-800-INGRAIN
if you're something in the rain
i can silently soak
and harbor insecurities we tied to the boat
i'd rather burn than choke. rather paddle than float
while you watch me from your window -
egoism, she wrote





DEADMAN