Font

I’m afraid of what it costs to get a part
of what we had before restored
to what it should be, or maybe could be
if we took it even further.

A lake surrounded by people on the shoreline
working overtime on taking it too easy.
Grasshopper symphonies like the ambiance
of memories I cannot even access
since I’m sinking into shallows so severely.

Your body will take it out on you
when you don’t live up to what you know is true,
and I could fall into the swimming pool
just to hold my breath for as long as I could take it.

Vodka is like a holy water font you get a taste of
after walking through a liquor store,
the only difference is it leaves you wanting more
and more until the only thing that’s holy
is the sunrise you are up for barely knowing
what awake is in the first place.

While driving home over the sand dunes
we see a group of men devouring a goat
they shot with guns slung on their backs.
The smoke poured out of that great pit
that they were cooking over endlessly
like there’s another sea of darkness
within everything.