Canned Shadow

Crawling onto the cave wall, a 101 pedant

disguising the malt on my tongue with a huff.

Incapable even of leaving the weedlings

to breathe in the fissures. I lizard them off.

Stained glass and copper-toned modesty panel

sweeping over the interstices of your skin.

Reclining bikinied, a muscle gun spineside,

telling strangers your secrets are secret again.

We stop one inch away from kissing every night now,

and this old pile of clothes is just waiting for the bones to all shake out.

And I’ve had enough of the road -- all the shows were so

long ago, anyhow --

but I’m driving away anyway, heading for a breakdown.

I’m driving away -- any way -- heading for a breakdown.

I’m driving away -- any way -- heading for a breakdown.

Heading for a breakdown.

Don’t you ever get dizzy bouncing from cloud to cloud to cloud,

seam ripper to silver till the acid spills out?

Don't you ever admit you get too far inside yourself,

that some seeds are just buried watching others sprout?

Decided I wouldn’t drink when I feel sad or angry.

It’s strange to be sober for so long.

But the tide goes out and you can’t explain it. 

I know I think I can, but I know I’m wrong.

We stop one inch away from kissing every night now,

and this old pile of clothes is just waiting for the bones to all shake out.

And I’ve had enough of the road -- all the shows were so

long ago, anyhow --

but I’m driving away anyway, heading for a breakdown.

I’m driving away -- any way -- heading for a breakdown.

I’m driving away -- any way -- heading for a breakdown.

Heading for a breakdown.

Heading for a break.

Break down.