you are sleeping off your demons
when i come home.
spittle bubbling at your lips,
fine white foam.
i am young and i am good.
it’s a hot southern california day.
if i wake you up,
there will be hell to pay.
and alone in my room i am the last of a lost civilization
and i vanish into the dark
and rise above my station.
rise above my station.
but i do wake you up and when i do
you blaze down the hall and you scream.
i’m in my room with the headphones on
deep in the dream chamber
and then i’m awake and i’m guarding my face
hoping you don’t break my stereo
because it’s the one thing that i couldn’t live without
so i think about that,
and then i sort of black out.
held under these smothering waves
by your strong and thick-veined hand
but one of these days
i’m gonna wriggle up on my land.