Monday, February 22, 2010


its all said and done with the purchase of a one way ticket,
ill say i knew you in the west, when you reach the east,
the only one in the whole town with clumps of knots for hair,
i miss the the sound of your cough, letting out smoke,
the kind hearted mania in your eyes when you smile,
wont look the same in pixels and muffled webcam noise.

in your stick shift coffin with bass vibrations thumping noise,
pollution, i rustled through the stacks of speeding tickets,
and thoughts in my head for something to make you smile,
like you always made me. you told me truths about the middle east,
because you know everything about everything, despite the smoke
and haze that grazed the floors and nestled in your hair.

remember when we spent four nights tangling knots in your hair?
while you kept your eyes glued to pinyin despite the noise,
of anthony bordains talking head babbling. break to smoke
in the winter woods, squatting on wet logs. the presidential ticket
was all a joke to you. "im looking to the east, the far east.
"who else in the world reacts to communism with such a smile.

oh baby, baby its a wild world, its hard to get by just upon a smile.
ill say take care, remember theres a little of my love woven into your hair,
and someday i swear ill dig my toes in the dirt of the east,
and ill eat all the dog meat that you want me too and take in the noise,
of the street vendors. ill pack my things and get my ticket,
but it will be round trip, ill return and again miss the smell of smoke.

i dont know why we talk about cats so much, you exhaled smoke,
into the ears of my kittens. when they became lethargic you smiled.
can you stay a little longer, just for a minute forget your ticket?
i promise to spend the whole time working wax into your hair,
i promise to sing to you all night but i wont make a single noise
when you says it right to be silent because when you are in the east

i wont hear you, carry my heart with you when the west meets east,
you'll need it when you are piled high in skyscrapers with nothing to smoke,
i cant sleep with out your restless legs shaking the bed, or the noise
of your rasta beats still stuck in my head. i hope you smile
when you think of the time i put a butterfly clip in the back of your hair,
you didnt know it was there for so long. tear up the ticket.

take in the noise, when you reach the east,
because you wont rip the ticket, you will give up the smoke,
you will smile when you recall my love in your hair.

No comments:

Post a Comment