Tell me something Something of summer

Something to remember

Backseat dreamer never

Ready for the future

Over those bangs came Those fangs, truth dug Into me,

but no one to share it with Eraser is a refusal

Memory at my disposal Blood smeared over

the backseat When those days were violent

We say the Replacements We tickled and

tempted anger, in the backseat

We were just kids, we were just fourteen

We were just to little to know anything else—

‘innocence from Shasta—innocence died

slowly, Grocery store lover,

How am I able to always go back this far

Do I have a scar called gratitude?

I do, On these wrists made to write

On this brain made to write

Made right by pain, Forged in suffering

Sharpened by despair Ready for repair,

Ready for the train tracks to pass

So I can put fear on it, so I can put

Death on it, so Your love can crush

Anything that stands in the way

Gospel preacher Mom, this is it!

This is my calling! To speak,

to declare To not live in fear, by fear!

February sin March Resurrection

April insurrection

The ingrate at the gate

May was haze, a fog, now I love smog,

now I wag the dog And look up what it means?

Polity for the frailty—who can govern This sadness?