in the 20s bygone lacings,
Anima protesters,
Eden aesthetics
and sun-west risings
i can’t bring myself to care
about anything that isn’t
just this plain lemon cake
by the window i can’t stand
and the streets my fucking manic-self would dance to every morning
it makes sounds no else
could care to hear
something that just slips inside
my bones and marrow
it’s colorful and it’s joyful
it’s cobblestones buckle and couple me
in an endless reverie of
going down to heaven
down to you
blue
rollin in it’s waves
rockin in it’s sand
jazzin in my mind
jitterbugging to “hello, dolly”
Joni, you’vе got nothing on me
well goddamn
i’ve almost twistеd my ankle
but we both know that nothing ever matters when your blessed with turning counting
into a dance song
brass and horns
three-three steps
chassé yourself out of this corner
baroque boredom
confessionalism her
i’m a flying fairy thanks to Debussy
i’m rocking poetry for patti
i’m a beach baby for sea-drift
but fuck em lemon-cakes