He says, you’re too much
Too much for me
I say too much for who?
Who’s counting the days
Of the week, of the month
Who’s counting the ways in which I spin you around and go faster, faster
A wishing well in a forest
Where we retrieve our Holy water
Where we feed upon our golden sweet nectar
Smooth like crushed cherries
Smoke thin like remnants of berries
I tell you, you’ve got bad lungs boy and you’re making them worse
You make bad decisions

He says “Are you one of them?”
I skip around and smile
It’s a no, for sure
Of course
Without a doubt
I’m the cherry on the cake
I’m that look you get from someone flirting with you
I’m your favorite piece of clothing fresh out of the dryer
I can take you higher and higher
If you let me
That is, if you let me
And I’m not quite sure you do
And that’s your fault, and my pain

I don’t exist for my own gain
It’s a challenge to go off course
But she who wears pink dresses must prevail
And to far lands of mystery and chaos she’ll set sail
Talking about myself in third person is growing stale
I’m comatose
I lost my keys and they’re not behind the couch
I bought a plantain lily and I don’t know the right growing conditions for it
I sometimes think I’m a mess but then I remember that my father once told me that I’m the best

My father once told me that I’m the best
And God is good
Land is free
And my father is always right
I’m the best


Watermelons and tangerines
I feel you behind me
You’ve pressed an incorrect key
Drown with me

Your full name
Tip of my tongue
Breath sounds
Swimming through my lungs

A golden finch
Screaming across the room
You’re such an evil bitch!

Because it’s you, I don’t flinch.

Under the mattress covers
I kiss you all over
I bend you
You’re my favorite lover

I bake you sweets
You spit out my cake
Me driving the truck
An idea you can’t shake

I’m swimming to you
Blowing bubbles for you
The camera clicks
I give your cheek playful licks

We develop the colorful flicks
We light them up like magic sticks

You’re so bizarre
Always making your weird jokes
Thank you for helping me
Get off the tar-pit smokes

I’m busy on Sundays
My personal days
But if you want company
You always get your way

Every day with you is a holiday

Let’s stay this way
This nice, calm peace
Floating by the bayside
A charming, hot ease

I bat my eyelashes and say please, please, please
Stay with me, here under the mattress covers
Play with me here, in the tree house
Dance with me, wild in the living room
Don’t let go when you hold me
Don’t say no when you’re above me
Don’t leave me, don’t leave me
Just love me

Just love me

Working-class man

To begin my ordeal
I’ll paint a picture of you
You’re neither black nor blue
A crescent grey by the San Francisco Bay
That’d be a delightful trip to take with you
With you, with you, with you
Holding hands on cobblestone with you

You’re stoic and you’re handsome
A beautiful display
Of a man that gets up in the morning with a set path on his way
Though distractions have come
He has tried to ignore them
Sometimes succumbing to crisp avalanches of boredom
But he always gets back up
He’s got things to do
People relying on him
His assets, his skills
He earns hundred dollars bills
Shoves em in his pocket and moves on to the next routine
Sometimes he’s kind of keen

Part two is where he hides himself from the people that love him
And at times it looks like he thinks he’s above them
But he doesn’t have that problem
He doesn’t have that problem

The fiber glass of the doorway shuts and he’s surrounded by mahogany walls
He feels like he’s there again
Back there
He feels like he’s going there again
He feels like within time they’ll take him back and there will be no way out now
Clerks are answering the phones
Men are in their suits in their offices
Surrounded by the mahogany walls he begins to grow sick, like something vile is to come
He picks up his briefcase, adjusts his tie, and says
“Just another day”
Just another day in the stratosphere
Just another day when you and I are not near
Just another day when I have nothing to fear
We tell ourselves
We trace our fingers on the bookshelves
We know we’re all going to Hell

His steps echo in the empty parking lot from his tan work boots
He wishes for complete silence
End the noise
In the car he drives, screaming at other drivers over lane changes and out-of-state license plates
Sprinkled with some of the most darling grand performances I’ve yet to see, to his indie pop burnt CDs that play on the stereo
You wouldn’t know it was him
That’s why I love when he lets me in
A part of the show, a guest within
The whole thing, he does with a grin

Oh if dancing was a sin

He swallows pills without water
Doesn’t read the labels
I keep my observations close
They’re my little secret tales
He doesn’t want me to be serious
He doesn’t agree that I’m lucky
My arms around his waist
I tell him please don’t love me

Please don’t love me
If dancing was a sin
We wouldn’t read the labels
We’d dive right in
Where we belong, that’s right
Keep you up all night

That’s the feature film
Good night, you’re still my dream
I can still hear you scream
Though to me it’s like a calm river stream

I keep my observations close
These are my little secret tales
Endless wishes for you
That you stay neither black nor blue
My heart goes out to you

Cobblestone freedom

I feel like table-salt
Over and over and over again

I’m in California, baby
What are you calling for, I ask like we’re playing chess
Don’t worry about me, baby
I have it all figured out
From my eyes to the top of my mouth
I live in the South
Where it shines real nice and the boys walk with their bare backs revealed so I can gawk at their shoulders
Mmmm shoulders
Stop laughing, you’re going to make me want you
We don’t want that cycle again
I ended up upside down in a ricochet
I really hated you but I could never

I’m alright, baby
I’m put together like cobblestone
In some parts you can see my bones
The kids whisper in each others’ ears
When I am near
I have a tan now because I go to the beach
About twice a week
And after I wash myself under the city showers
Dripping like silk as the water falls down my legs
Not parched
Smooth like lemonade

I miss you on Thursdays
Those are the days when memories replay of us watching the live concerts on the television
And dancing in the living room
Me with a cider in my hand
Apple, always
Feeling free with you
Always for you and always with you

Civic ’04

I’m definitely in shambles
I want to be cooler
I want to know what you see in her
And how closely or how far apart that is from what you perceive of me, which I believe to be a blur
Are you really getting to know her?
Are you attached, at the hip?
When she talks a lot, do you fail to get a grip?
Do certain words slip?

I’m not interested in that
As a matter of fact
I’ll close my hands over my ears if you ever do tell
For I really don’t want to be overwhelmed
I’m so much more fragile than you think
Sometimes I know you’re at your brink
I see your bones and your ship start to sink
But you’re not mine to take care of, I think
No longer mine

Peach fuzz on my arms
Cherry on a cake
I go through my head counting every mistake
I grill it, I bake and I bake
My delicate hands start to shake
It all starts with you
It all ends with you
I don’t want all of it to end
I don’t want to be blue
My words are always misconstrued
Goddamnit can’t I tell you the truth
I won’t say it, I won’t write that rhyme there

You’re on your own
Tough skin and bones
Let’s see if you can act like the tough guy you think you are
Playing like you’ve got a gun in your trunk and ammunition to spare
You think I’m blissfully unaware
Falling for your smooth moves
After all this is the life I choose
Your hands on the wheel, we cruise and cruise
Many times I’ve wondered if we’ve engaged in abuse

Is that my decision to choose
To stay, to love, to keep
To heal, most of all
To hurt, myself in the running but perhaps you too in ways I don’t know yet
Talk to me like a grown man
Don’t let the blood flow over the edges
Be a man and breathe in when I pour hydrogen peroxide over your fresh red gashes and wounds
You can scream if you want to
You can shout at me, at god, at the nonexistence of any heavenly entity
You can express whatever it is inside of you that’s been eating away like aphids on growing flowers
I see you decay and I want to wash away
Your fears like butterflies
Turn them into bright tangerine skies
Rest your head on my soft thighs

So honey, please stop with the lies
Honey, stop with the lies
This may come as a surprise

My decision
To heal, most of all
Just give me a call
I don’t have to be yours to be important
That’s all