I heard about a man,
once,
with trust issues and when
he was proved right
no one was amused
and there was no mirth
in that vindication.

Never met the man
or his problems
but I feel his pains
as they reverberate
off of every wall and
corner and the big brass
bell
on the building downtown

I wonder if he’ll ever
trust again. Then,
I guess he hasn’t so far
and I guess he was right
and so what does that say?
Should all our trusts
have issues?

Do they?

When I was 17 my heart was gray
then came stilettos, cigarettes butts
and love at arm’s length.
I lived life as if it was real
But things don’t really change
I still lie alone besides a railroad
breathing in sunset clouds and
whispering to myself “dream go slow”

you are slightly deformed
and while I consider eating you,
the thought of your strange projection,
bursting in my mouth,
is slightly sickening;
and though I know that in a dark room
i would never notice,
in the light, i just can’t do it.

so i will zip you up,
and lock you away from the outer air;
then i will forget you;
and in a few weeks, purely by accident,
perhaps i will find you,
and perhaps I will marvel,
and perhaps my curiosity will lead me
to take a long overdue bite.

in the chorus you said
he was your daddy
and printed on vinyl
with all that passed
you’ve got to play that track
still
it’s your most requested
biggest hit

that night we toasted
to liars, and
everyone looked around
then to their feet
and i added,
“for wasting all our time”
and everyone felt like i
was talking to
just
them

then, when the stagehands called
and there was no one at the mic
i knew you’d felt your mortality
i knew all your songs had died
and they’d find you at home
pulling out a strand of hair
every second