I am a feeling not a speaking

ain’t no word wrong enough

--

coast to coast on nothing but

unbuttered toast

the young guns are just warmin' up

They got plans for ripe plums

They look like peppermint in the moonlight

They are in out everything all at once

because they are wanting nothing so much

and just barely not dying doing it

--

(so that we're okay if a greater thing takes one of us home)

I am a clown under your crown

I know

And we’re still on our own

But let’s keep this hot glow going long as we can

And kick shit apart the day we have to let it go

And teach each other things like how to fill a head like a treasure chest

how to fill a bed with a giants' rest

Let our Feet Itch Let our Eyes Wander Let ourselves Flex and Flux and Fuck Up

(so that when our houses burn down we’ll just feel that much more free)