Backseat driving with
your mind in your crotch
voice ringing through the clear air
complaining about how the commercials
all say the same thing about different stuff
and I personally have had enough
Strange animals live in your mind
I know you can't unwind
but it's time for bed
the monsters are awake
and need to be fed
I don't want to hear about
the train station in your heart
I can't stand the handcuffs
that hold me here
chained to your glass bed
the only dark spot
on this virgin wall
Franjesca, don't worry about tears
only tiny bits of dwarf stars
the tree's rush by
in pine scented air
Do you know our location..
our destination
Lost in a trial of our Mothers
are you the Judge or my
Public Defender
Sleeping on the couch again
help me to write a letter to send
I'm melting on the hot water heater
to shy away from public feeders
Hang Him, Fry Him, Tie Him Up
and Infect Him
Franjesca please don't run
I'll sleep in my bed soon
Take me then, take me then
while I sleep, Dream, sleep
Dream...
Tunnels and lights
criminal heights
Want me, Want me
Show me that you want me
February 1995
I actually think this is the first poem I wrote when I moved to North Carolina.
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