Black Drapes and Plastic Fingers
A while back my soul took a wrong turn
Sometimes I wonder if I had a tough birth,
Did I come out feet first like a blue-faced luge runner?
Banking right, then left onto the icy cuff
launching into a starless pit of nothingness-
Maybe mom's breasts were filled with booze.
Maybe too much old-fashioned strap
for the most minor infractions.
Without love to temper stings
life is just one big muddy slog
void of any spring.
I'm hesitant-simple decisions are difficult.
and that ever-present haze of mistrust
once sparkling relations turning diamonds into dust-
Maybe I snapped when that pissed off farmer.
wrapped a dead snake around my neck-
For freeing his herd of cows-now I'm a bit of a control freak.
Wanting to palm butterflies and honeybees.
Maybe it was the fifth grade "teacher"(you know who you are).
With the strong cologne and loose hands-
That made me into a quicksand man.
Everybody I meet gets sucked into the ooze.
I need to let it all go-clean the mental lint trap.
But these sun crushers, present and past.
Keep arriving in sleek sharky waves.
Bearing loose plastic fingers and black satin drapes-
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