Tomorrow Wants to Extend

We're the only sound around
It's a wonder I'm still tame
With the smell of paste and wasted elderberries on your neck
We were cranking Diver Down
You started swinging from a crane
And the arc you made it made a bald, emboldened boy reflect.

All the pouty debutantes
With their fractured moms in tow
Lie spread-eagled on the feeble canvas of a beach at dawn
Cousins, nephews, uncles, aunts
Speak a speech that's syrup slow
Wring affection from a tincture's bled-already, broken bonds.

It's another theory shot to shit on la la
This was all we used to know we think we thought.

Once the moon had fallen off
Now it's back like mistletoe
Our corrupted silence eyelet-like to golden derrieres
Well, I can turn my head and cough
Try to stretch tomorrow....

Copyright 1998 John Brocato