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
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?