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
chorus:
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 yo like tar
but never fall in too fast
with my north star
while you pull your hair out
i buy the drinks at the bar
chorus