you can't form these borders but i bet you like to keep
them peachy keen and catchy so that no one washes them
with new found knowledge you sly bastard you
i know you were the rat who sold out my inventions
but forget it lets have a drink and laugh again
and pretend that we're still friends.
pt. 1
picking up the pieces of an alabaster landscape
i'm inspired to consume unnamed legumes
and write a song about aprils and days that rain refrain
...
take the information
rearrange it and distort the possibilities of coherence
until it gets to where it takes a guide to show you back to
safety on the depravated highways that circle with no end
or hesitation of leading us to hypotheses of exiting
completely a nation bent on warring other ideals.
pt. 2
passively collecting chances in a plastic scrapbook
the liberals have lynched our existence in unclouded atmospheres so now we breathe the smog and dirt as if it were pure oxygen but happily i write my spite on the back of landmarked postcards from unclaimed appalacias south of your new england
pt. 3
and maybe one day i'll erect my own enigma to erase the occupation of unending obligations endeavoring my brain
but until then lets just divide the cheese we made off these inane macabres and sing sweet halelujah
dancing for the nights we've earned
selling darts and dispositions
aimed at never growing old
[and on that note we depart]