nostalgia and shook nights. (evening music)
strange voice mail messages that i don't want to think about tonight. i'm pretty sure i need a hair cut. keep considering other people's "quotas" in regards to meaningful talk. rob talked with me -- saturday, it was...yes -- and i couldn't have asked for a better conversation; we spanned math (which i've kept, thinking about it. understanding and disenchantment, kids getting older, mundane broken hearts in city bedrooms, furling away) and french philsophers' writing style (ha) and intellectual passion and profanity rules on the radio and hell even the sea and cake.
so why do i get so lonely? / (it's my fault, it's my own doing...i don't understand why i can't handle being near anyone i want to be near to, nor why later i feel so injured from the neverness of it. impossible construction--frailty--misbegotten accidental you worry and you make it, you make it.)
i am not sovery disciplined. (sigh) and i keep rereading about elizabeth smart, and missing my bookshelves at home, and rereading elaine equi, and doing other things i should not do.
the english department bigwigs, the literary magazines that, as i'm reading them, make my clothing feel too tight. the knowing there isn't enough of me, to spread around, even thinly--
there are lines and things firmly believed, conviction--flying about in my head, little loose strands. the words from a girl's mouth. the rejection slips, the love letters, the exasperated phone calls. the silences in cars. the ones whose skin and bone i was lucky enough to know, for brief periods. the being 14 years old. boredom and romanticism, the autumn sweaters and daydreams over drum kits. radio surprise. that element...
and i'm tiny, here, in my bright and hazy room, with sad songs playing in the evening and dark coats hanging in the closet next to a brick wall. little dots, little brackets of squared light through the window. city lights, beautiful and orange. ... heeled shoes, taut lines from outfits, strips of cloth and warm wet wash. a couple white plastic buckets, what else, hmm...curry and sandals. clips to keep the wisps of hair at bay.
it's. : one mode of writing, the only one i fall into, over and over again.
and all i can do is keep from crying, with these sugared anonymous appeals on my messaging machine.
wait there
i'll find my shotgun shells
and aim to blow your top
off the pedestal
you're asking me to
climb down to your treehouse
and dance upon the smallest limb
you're asking me to jump and shout
and shake myself to the ground
i fall upon my head
i never seem to get
these limbs beneath my legs
to land up like a cat
who's taken back his lives
for ones not going right
i never was that good
but you're asking me to
climb down through your treehouse
and dance upon the smallest limb
you're asking me to jump and shout
and shake myself to the--
i don't want to dance no more
you were never worth the fall
/
i used to fall down
and all your kindness kept me on
i used to be cool
and all your compassion kept me warm
and sometimes she moves in time
she really moves
she's catching her breath
but she's changing her mind
and goodbye to rose
my queen of carona
she really moves
she's gotta fly
and i used to move
and all your laughter gave me form
i used to be cold
thank you for weathering the storm
and sometimes she moves in time
and she really moves
she's catching her breath
but she's changing her mind
and goodbye to rose
my queen of carona
she really moves
she's gotta fly
well she really moves
she's gotta fly
/
got a wall inside you
somehow you keep it covered up
when the phone rings
got a wall inside you now
but you keep it covered up
i build the wall
down beside you
but you keep it covered up
and i think oh well
you got a house above it
somehow you keep it covered up
down inside you
you got a wall
somehow you keep it covered up
down beside you
and roll the road beside the wall
down beside you
but you keep it covered up
and think oh well
down beside you
but you keep it covered up
and think oh well
down beside you
but you keep it covered up
covered up
/
get out any time that you want to, get out any time that you want to...
/
BE BRAVE (wheat).
so why do i get so lonely? / (it's my fault, it's my own doing...i don't understand why i can't handle being near anyone i want to be near to, nor why later i feel so injured from the neverness of it. impossible construction--frailty--misbegotten accidental you worry and you make it, you make it.)
i am not sovery disciplined. (sigh) and i keep rereading about elizabeth smart, and missing my bookshelves at home, and rereading elaine equi, and doing other things i should not do.
the english department bigwigs, the literary magazines that, as i'm reading them, make my clothing feel too tight. the knowing there isn't enough of me, to spread around, even thinly--
there are lines and things firmly believed, conviction--flying about in my head, little loose strands. the words from a girl's mouth. the rejection slips, the love letters, the exasperated phone calls. the silences in cars. the ones whose skin and bone i was lucky enough to know, for brief periods. the being 14 years old. boredom and romanticism, the autumn sweaters and daydreams over drum kits. radio surprise. that element...
and i'm tiny, here, in my bright and hazy room, with sad songs playing in the evening and dark coats hanging in the closet next to a brick wall. little dots, little brackets of squared light through the window. city lights, beautiful and orange. ... heeled shoes, taut lines from outfits, strips of cloth and warm wet wash. a couple white plastic buckets, what else, hmm...curry and sandals. clips to keep the wisps of hair at bay.
it's. : one mode of writing, the only one i fall into, over and over again.
and all i can do is keep from crying, with these sugared anonymous appeals on my messaging machine.
wait there
i'll find my shotgun shells
and aim to blow your top
off the pedestal
you're asking me to
climb down to your treehouse
and dance upon the smallest limb
you're asking me to jump and shout
and shake myself to the ground
i fall upon my head
i never seem to get
these limbs beneath my legs
to land up like a cat
who's taken back his lives
for ones not going right
i never was that good
but you're asking me to
climb down through your treehouse
and dance upon the smallest limb
you're asking me to jump and shout
and shake myself to the--
i don't want to dance no more
you were never worth the fall
/
i used to fall down
and all your kindness kept me on
i used to be cool
and all your compassion kept me warm
and sometimes she moves in time
she really moves
she's catching her breath
but she's changing her mind
and goodbye to rose
my queen of carona
she really moves
she's gotta fly
and i used to move
and all your laughter gave me form
i used to be cold
thank you for weathering the storm
and sometimes she moves in time
and she really moves
she's catching her breath
but she's changing her mind
and goodbye to rose
my queen of carona
she really moves
she's gotta fly
well she really moves
she's gotta fly
/
got a wall inside you
somehow you keep it covered up
when the phone rings
got a wall inside you now
but you keep it covered up
i build the wall
down beside you
but you keep it covered up
and i think oh well
you got a house above it
somehow you keep it covered up
down inside you
you got a wall
somehow you keep it covered up
down beside you
and roll the road beside the wall
down beside you
but you keep it covered up
and think oh well
down beside you
but you keep it covered up
and think oh well
down beside you
but you keep it covered up
covered up
/
get out any time that you want to, get out any time that you want to...
/
BE BRAVE (wheat).