nonfiction

i don't know my telephone number but you kiss good and i'd like to see you tomorrow and i don't beg, i pay, i don't barter and if we had a child i'd like a son, not a daughter 'cause she'd be just like you you know that would not do i'm no builder, i'm no gardener i sing some songs, have a friend who's a photographer there ain't no other language i know how to speak some like their water shallow and i like mine deep tied to the bottom with a noose around my feet the clouds conspire above my head i overheard them say i wish he was dead today the sunset burned my eyes and in the next room i hear someone cry i like to dress up like the jury to eat like a king, to poke fun at clergy to talk like dirt to love you like tar but never fall in too fast with my north star while you pull your fair out i buy the drinks at the bar the clouds conspire above my head i overheard them say i wish he was dead today the sunset burned my eyes and in the next room i hear someone cry…