800 miles from where i feel home
i see your face in san francisco
illuminated in sunlight
vibrantly so vibrantly
you are the best day of my life
tonight it all feels so distant
the fading in my eyes
and a sore throat that lingers
telling my cats i love them
they'll stay with susan
there's a hum in my ears
i think it's your lovesongs
will you forgive me
illuminated in sunlight
i tried my best to paint you
you are the best day of my life
you are the best day of my life
i had just seen them
the whites of his eyes
cruel pearl indifference
to meet with my thumbs
unutterable filth
unbiblical rage
i want to remove him
you're naked and bare
asleep on the bed
he's moving to corner you
demanding to talk
i want to be violent
i want to use teeth
i want to remove him
the crunch of his fingers
the sounds of his screams
the taste of his bleeding
the look in his eyes
i'm biting at nothing
i'm biting at waste
i want to remove him
you watch from the bedside
i'm blinded by hate
my mouthful of digits
he's writhing in pain
i'm sorry for everything
i'll clean it all up
i had to remove him
i had to remove him
grow up
go deaf
sell your childhood
i dreamt last night you knew me
all biblical and bare
jeapordized and vandalized
and tied down to the chair
they're hanging 'round without me now
the bus has left the stop
i'm shattered and i'm broken
i've razed all of my crop
a thousand nights of sorrow
a single night of bliss
i've forgotten all the years i've earned
can i have another kiss
i am a hungry rabid
i'm foaming at the mouth
desperate to be forgiven
i'm moving farther south
dining for festivities in a hot parking lot
the simulacra of a statued deer in the yard of a suburban sun
distance is a virtue and it carries the pain of a century
she has a little mini barbecue that she
puts things in when she's stressed and
she lights it on fire and watches it burn for a while
she used to let me play with matches
in the kitchen to teach me respect
for fire i was around seven
i'd build houses
out of popsicle sticks and she'd let me set them on fire
she's had it since she was a teenager because
her parents were afraid of her setting fire to the house
it's a comfort object for her
my whole life whenever she gets stressed she goes in the yard and lights some
papers or boxes or things on fire and comes back in a couple hours
or later smelling like fire
it's an annual ritual that every year
after she gets her tax returns she burns
the paperwork from five years before
i am the lamb hospitable
i am everything you need
i am the metal wreckage
i am the storm upon the sea
i am the forceful nature
i am too tired to run
i am every motherless daughter
and every fatherless son
i am the jealous hooker
i am the viet cong
i am the train derailment
i am the righted wrong
i am the seat of mercy
i am left the only one
i am every motherless daughter
and every fatherless son
i am the union medic
i am oil and gasoline
i am the milk and honey
i am ripping out the seam
i am the prison warden
i am the loaded gun
i am every motherless daughter
and every fatherless son
i am YHWH Eloheinu
i am creator of this rock
i am the pocket pussy
i am the 10-inch throbbing cock
i am the second coming
i am the lustful nun
i am every motherless daughter
and every fatherless son
i am the world power
i am selling crystal meth
i am stealing all your babies
i am beating them to death
i am the last stand of custer
i am finished when i'm done
i am every motherless daughter
and every fatherless son
i am biting hands that feed me
i am sharpening my knives
i am the christ you worship
i am taking names and lives
i am complicit in the mayhem
i am not having any fun
i am every motherless daughter
and every fatherless son
there is no better or worse you are my favorite color
whose baby is this
held in fingers rough and worn
whose baby is this that knows
not of the sins of the father nor the mother
whose baby is this
whose baby is this
unwanted broken and forgotten
whose baby is this crying out
for love that is fallen on hearing ears
whose baby is this
whose baby is this
longing for a life of love
whose baby is this aching
to be held
whose baby is this
whose baby is this
unsettledly settling on rose vines and bramble
whose baby is this laid on
brick and tepid concrete
whose baby is this
whose baby is this
with hands marred by false devotion
whose baby is this born to
a god out getting milk and american spirits
