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Array
(
[sid] => 33842
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => grass
[time] => 2004-02-04 16:58:02
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => Angels and sailors, rich girls, backyard fences, tents, Dreams watching each other narrowly, Soft luxuriant cars. Girls in garages, stripped out to get liquor and clothes, half gallons of wine and six packs of beer. Jumped, humped, born to suffer, made to undress in the wilderness. I will never treat you mean Never start no kind of scene I'll tell you every place and person that I've been Always a playground instructor, never a killer, Always a bridesmaid on the verge of fame or over, He maneuvered two girls in to his hotel room. One a friend, the other, the young one, a newer stranger Vaguely Mexican or Puerto Rican. Poor boys thighs and buttocks scarred by a father's belt, She's trying to rise. Story of her boyfriend, of teenage stoned death games, Handsome lad, dead in a car. Confusion. No connections. Come 'ere. I love you. Peace on earth. Will you die for me? Eat me. This way. The end. I'll always be true Never go out, sneaking out on you, babe If only you'll show me Far Arden again. I'm surprised you could get it up. He whips her lightly, sardonically, with belt. Haven't I been through enough? she asks, Now dressed and leaving The Spanish girl begins to bleed; She says her period. It's Catholic heaven. I have an ancient Indian crucifix around my neck, My chest is hard and brown. Lying on stained, wretched sheets with a bleeding virgin, We could plan a murder, Or start a religion. I'll tell you this... No eternal reward will forgive us now For wasting the dawn. Back in those days everything was simpler and more confused. One summer night, going to the pier, I ran into two young girls. The blonde was called Freedom, The dark one, Enterprise. We talked and they told me this story: Now listen to this...I'll tell you about Texas radio and the big beat. Soft driven, slow and mad Like some new language, Reaching your hand with the cold, sudden fury of a divine messenger. Let me tell you about heartache and the loss of god, Wandering, wandering in hopeless night. Out here in the perimeter there are no stars, Out here we is stoned Immaculate. [comments] => 1 [counter] => 204 [topic] => 21 [informant] => sublime86t [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => Lifepoems )
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