09 November 2011

there’s no such thing as simple songs

i’ve watched no country
seven nights in a row
    not strictly an active watch
one and a half times with ponytail
      once without breathing
but never forgetting
         how you did the leaving

boyos have the heart scars
   after every beating
to prove that
          we can move it
   that there's blood on our shoes
               to match the blood on your boots
      you couldn’t just call it off
instead you decided
         the best route was to not talk
before the light went soft
   and you gave it up
with chamomile tea
   an infidelity
            on a monday
when he’d already called in to work
that’s when he convinced you

  ‘we might as well make use of the church’

      on the run
on the coast
sailing winds
               the arrogant boast
here’s a toast
to the ones you leave behind the most

the ones who brought you to the air
      what future holdings do to fear

hot brown coffee has no care
just like you won’t hear
         the cow screaming
   and how it got there

makes you think ‘fuck the ones’
   who need to stare
who need to understand things
   or share

stay away from the kind of people
who like movies
      or music 
who get things done
so   yeah  
         that’s pretty much everyone

except the little boy
   lord fauntleroy
who took one last shot
with all his toys
headed east to wait
for daddy to die
      for the money to come
dressed you up like it’s 1981  

like declan patrick aloysious macmanus
   laid down his gun
   to spend his time
reciting schoolboy puns

ever clever down the rabbit hole
pouring concrete footings
   around your flagpole     
telling you all the truth
you choose to hold
who you are
why you’re here
      was fifteen the other f word
or was that father
      i used to burn certain suns to know that truth
but now i don’t even bother

might as well put a name on it


      but everything
including ideals
         can be labeled as wrong

there’s no such thing as simple songs

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