Spring '97 - Passage

the skyshine shown and she keeps shining.

i glow in the shelter like a loving television

still dreaming of pussy as the rain runs out come spring of '97

cut to morning in a high school

an out of body peter sellers pins a note to a coca cola tombstone

in the junkyard mess hall with his switchblade,

he swipes pad locks, lucky charms, field dreams, sandwiches, and sun

right from under the flashlight noses of the newer model 1980 babies

and the ape-like med-head wife go getters…

policy shift, still he can live with the fish,

poison the roots, there’s still the college girl moon,

heart-shaped wheels roll no matter what sunday,

it’s always a good time to scream at your bedroom.

boys and girls ice skate gland in gland

until the rink finally splits in two

like souls of vietnam so and so’s

who never made it to canada…

sellers chase the sublime,

let sellers chase the sublime

in cellars chase the sublime.