By and by the burial plots shift
the Ka, the kid, the temples forgotten
rotten bodies bore by memory of faith
sunsets of trailer trash litter the horizon
the landscape of our friendship undone
mostly nocturnal, hardly worth mention
the TV sits in the corner
mother takes her pills
and dad watches as the world burns
this house breathes heavy and shallow
the TV sits in the corner
the room takes notice of the flies
on the wall
a marriage of buzzing and dirty snow flakes
tune in and turn off
this graveyard of static pulls at my shirt tail
five year olds with loud fuckin' mouths
mothers who stick out their guts
and fuck stupidly
a nation of name tag tattooed buffoons
my face comes into focus
the eyes wander above the tree tops
those dreams of dancing ex wives
they were so beautiful
me broken, tip toeing like jesus
and I remember why I left the city
for the tall weeping pines
and the unassuming brilliance of the mallards spine
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