Yes, we can have a love affair.
But let me turn the TV on
& let me rip the skin off of my fingers.
Don’t mind the blood, it’s just a little.

Wow, you haven’t much of a stomach, huh?
Toughen up or else you won’t be able to handle
what you’ve got c(u)ming.

And afterwards, we won’t smoke cigarettes,
but draw a line and drop a line.
Smell something sweeter than flowers,
but bitter enough to form a tiny hand that crawls up your throat.

Now those wounds & tiny cuts on my hands are portals to different worlds.
Climb on it, before the monster finds us.
Or that sheriff, he’s out to get us.
Better pull out our guns.

Do you hear God?
I think I do
at the bottom of my teacup
& in the pulse of your wrist.

Sugar-painteddandelions will dust us with
their feather hats
& we will never feel anything like this again.

Don’t let God walkin on us.
Sex & drugs & money will kiss
Sex & drugs & money will kill
us.

Did you know that we all have a mother?
Whether she’s the one that grew us or the only that tended to our baby dish.