Convulses in plain view, will you still love me then? Yes…
Drifting somewhere I came home and missed you, this is
How our days travel, washing against each other, uncoordinated.
I hear the voices of angels in your slavery and the devil
In your mastery, opening your heart to peer inside
At the batteries and the wires, figuratively speaking only!
Don’t you understand, I love the way you cross your legs
And stare out the window in Astoria
Where you’re reading about the drear politics of men
And women in the hard games behind the scenes.
Lately it’s hard to want to pay attention to them but
The news is everywhere and we are slaves. Anyway
You bring it your personal skepticism like a knife through pork O,
I wish you were here, washing up in the bathroom with me
Enveloped in the darkness that occurs before sunrise.