Falling down again, this feeling that you know so well
a child scraping up his knees…
Who’s kissing the cuts and chasing behind you?
Leo says that, «there’s no victims, only volunteers.»
I think that I believe that if there’s a crime,
there must be a crime scene.
Sorry that we peaked in my California teething.
Word on the street: the deal had been queered for quite sometime.
Small print too small to read—
«Take the tourniquet off and an artery will breathe»
the East-side summer air, thick with smog and chaparral,
hangs waiting for a breeze.
Autumn, my friend, I hope that you’ve missed me.
Whoa-ah-oh…that’s what they say…