Nonfiction

i don't know my telephone number

but you kiss good and i'd like to

see you tomorrow

and i don't beg, i pay, i don't barter

and if we had a child i'd like a son,

not a daughter

'cause she'd be just like you

you know that would not do

i'm no builder, i'm no gardener

i sing some songs, have a friend

who's a photographer

there ain't no other language

i know how to speak

some like their water shallow

and i like mine deep

tied to the bottom

with a noose around my feet

chorus:

the clouds conspire

above my head

i overheard them

say i wish he was dead

today the sunset

burned my eyes

and in the next room i hear someone cry

i like to dress up like the jury

to eat like a king, to poke fun at clergy

to talk like dirt

to love yo like tar

but never fall in too fast

with my north star

while you pull your hair out

i buy the drinks at the bar

chorus