|
You taste like A&W |
|
Orange and brown |
|
Draw through your straw |
|
Wash it all down |
|
The strange age |
|
The gas gauge |
|
The rash upon my ribcage |
|
But you'd never leave me in the lurch |
|
Or deceive me when the search |
|
For the morning |
|
Gets boring |
|
Mechanically scorning |
|
Twenty-thousand broken tunes |
|
A galaxy of afternoons |
|
Birthdays of November ruins |
|
Are soon to be my vehicle |
|
I'll be dozing in the divorced dads' |
|
Devastated bachelor pads |
|
It subtracts and then it adds |
|
But all in all it's a miracle they do |
|
That's when |
|
I go where the college kids loiter |
|
Just hang out and reconnoiter |
|
The umbrage |
|
The language |
|
With each dumb pang of anguish |
|
I think about how I spent my year |
|
In a twin bed with young skin near |
|
So blindly |
|
Remind me |
|
How'd you sneak that knife behind me? |
|
Some nights it's achingly ample |
|
Some nights it's just a sample |
|
Stamp a little dimple in the |
|
Simple love you think is yours |
|
But who's in your camp when the world darkens |
|
Dampening with snarking grins? |
|
The parking situation thins |
|
When unwieldy eras lock their doors |
|
'But you know |
|
I got a lot for you |
|
But it'll never do |
|
Oh, unless |
|
Well, nevertheless |
|
You go |
|
Do what you gotta do |
|
If you're not so true |
|
I guess A&W |
|
Is fading too |
|
We'd walk through the town in an endless loop |
|
In the rapidly melting ice cream soup |
|
That stuck us together |
|
In Frontier Ruckus weather |
|
But ain't it precious? |
|
The freshest scrape? |
|
I faced rewind and erased the tape |
|
And I saw |
|
It all go |
|
But I still hear the audio |
|
Our sitcom plot line's terrible |
|
It rots on the vine like a parable |
|
Written by the veritable human punchline |
|
You now kiss |
|
I'll be driving around the Silverdomes |
|
With the student drivers and mobile homes |
|
The worst survivors of all my poems |
|
Would never treat someone like this |
|
I bet |
|
Your makeup's indelibly smeared on that towel |
|
I once feared it was permanently on me as well |
|
Like the cinder |
|
From that winter |
|
And the slush along Dequindre |
|
The ride that we got from the mechanic shop |
|
From the Persian woman in the Mercedes drop-top |
|
Her marriage |
|
Miscarriage |
|
We thought her stories bonded us in awareness |
|
We thought nothing like that could happen to us |
|
We were two of the luckiest |
|
Bastards in the mastered art of |
|
Barely ever giving a fuck |
|
But in the end one fuck got gave |
|
Two, if you count our literal behavior |
|
The root beer, dear |
|
Will you please save a drop for me, as you cutely suck? |
|
'Cause you know |
|
I had a lot for you |
|
But it'll never do |
|
Oh, unless |
|
Well, nevertheless |
|
You go |
|
Do what you gotta do |
|
If you're not so true |
|
I guess A&W |
|
Orange and brown are through |
|
It'll be just like we never knew |
