i used to play with matches

some build cathedrals

others play with matches

we are narrow

the way we carry ourselves

so much pride in so much madness

so much comfort in so much illness

the kids need the sun

need the cancer

need their fathers

some write

others hang themselves on their day off

hardy har har

he's got high hopes

but still walks tightropes

but as sure as he sinks

she floats

in a bottle

like little love notes