coming home is terrible
whether the dogs lick your face or not;
coming home is terribly lonely,
so that you think
of the oppressive barometric pressure
back where you have just come from with fondness,
because everything’s worse once you’re home.
lying on the sofa with my eyes closed, i didn’t want to see it this way, everything eating everything in the end.
we know how the light works, we know where the sound is coming from.
verse. chorus. verse.
i’m sorry. we know how it works. the world is no longer mysterious.
you turn me inside out
and then you want the outside in
you spin me all around
and then you ask me not to spin
you say you want to be alone
and you want children
you want to be with me
you want to be with him
please stick close to my side
please help me down
stay close to my right and let me be
pathetic in your arms
stick close to my side
i really fucked myself
please look into my eyes and let me
think of something else
when i die, i will come in fast and low.
i will stick the landing. there will be no confusion.
the dead will make room for me.
- real estate by richard siken
but tonight he is alive and in the north field with his mother. it’s a perfect summer evening: the moon rising over the orchard, the wind in the grass. and as he stares into the sky, there are twice as many stars as usual.
- two-headed calf by laura gilpin
”if you're so funny
then why are you on your own tonight?
and if you're so clever
then why are you on your own tonight?
if you're so very entertaining
then why are you on your own tonight?
if you're so very good-looking
why do you sleep alone tonight?”
“the meaning it goes away sometimes
i know all the words but they don't seem to rhyme
sometimes all i can do is lie,”
she says as the water pours from her eyes