save the spoils for the victor
the quitter quickly quit her
today I'm a reel to reel silent motion picture
a storm circles these rocky mountain blocks
searching for a parking spot
over the city
if you're with me then you're with me
if you're dizzy then they're working
the snows still lurking
in cloud bunkers
tossing thunder
like hand grenades
smoke fades
and so did the summer
we take a number to wonder
how long we've been under the weather
and the influence
truant and missing for instance
time is the distance
between the cracks in the concrete
where black sheep grass blades meet
to discuss the trials of living on the street
compete to complete
letting down the heat easy
with breezy conversation
sleazy masturbation of an already swollen ego
we go over heads and under the bridge
to rid ourselves of these useless eyelids
and fingers
thoughts still linger
but grey skies are for sad kids
beginners
so how the fuck are we supposed to separate the saint from the sinner
if they both plan on wearing their horns to dinner
how awkward
to share words with madness
and stability
june through september never feels that real to me
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