maribou
05-13-2006, 11:24 AM
Cornsilk in the field sounds, shimmering
Crushed bells on a hot August night
Timothy and clover seeds itching
clammy skin, bugs bugging lightbulbs
Burning dim, there’s cursing
In the barn again, about the girl kid
Part of a package deal, she was
All legs and flesh, smart
Mouth changin’ the atmosphere
Boy, that thunder comes up fast
Puttin’ windows down, wind
Blowin’ up somethin’ hard
Rain muffling the shrieking gale,
Within those walls, that small sanctuary
Then through the glass, a stranger
Amber-lit in Renoir’s palette
before a swirling angry grey
Sky, he sits on the bench
Where we chop off chicken heads
Now Old Snoop’s howling awake, footsteps
Shush-march downstairs, closet door creaks
He got the gun again, chamber loads, sights
Out to the tired jogger drippin’
On the chicken head choppin’ bench
Epilogue:
Turned out alright, I guess
Went back to bed before the end…I was twelve
Crushed bells on a hot August night
Timothy and clover seeds itching
clammy skin, bugs bugging lightbulbs
Burning dim, there’s cursing
In the barn again, about the girl kid
Part of a package deal, she was
All legs and flesh, smart
Mouth changin’ the atmosphere
Boy, that thunder comes up fast
Puttin’ windows down, wind
Blowin’ up somethin’ hard
Rain muffling the shrieking gale,
Within those walls, that small sanctuary
Then through the glass, a stranger
Amber-lit in Renoir’s palette
before a swirling angry grey
Sky, he sits on the bench
Where we chop off chicken heads
Now Old Snoop’s howling awake, footsteps
Shush-march downstairs, closet door creaks
He got the gun again, chamber loads, sights
Out to the tired jogger drippin’
On the chicken head choppin’ bench
Epilogue:
Turned out alright, I guess
Went back to bed before the end…I was twelve