page 1: "we wear stilettos and walk alone"
page 3: "it sure is scary in the big bad world"
page 4: "all my little children"
we wear stilettoes and walk alone
side by side can't be reached by phone
winter is a cold regret
ice is just another threat
mull me over with sweet red wine
say in a day or so that i'll be fine
i can't remember anything
but here and now and that single ring
they way you kept my chords in tune
when the rain caught me that afternoon.
my darling
there's no use in dreaming
you're only going to have to wake up.
all you can do, is find someone who will care for you
and treat them right, and go out at night
while they're asleep, and cry
it sure is scary in the big bad world
i live in a box with no one to hold.
all my little children
they are all my little children
and when i leave them to attend the fields
nothing grows but
spectacular visions
in one of the brightest i'd abandoned
i brought her to the pasture
and was told, no, not quite,
so she was my disaster
special schools
and she came back broken
and suddenly all that was left for it
were hot nights by the side of the road
speaking easy because we were going nowhere
and as everything rushed by and the
friends of my children had
children of their own
i started to laugh
because it was funny that she hadn't grown
and something else
that they hadn't known
but she disagrees
and spreads her arms
and with alarming honesty she yells
almost unheard in the traffic
that she wishes,
and i hang my head.
flat
like a school girl
poem on a blackboard
stanzas are pretty good
come back when you've got some meat on you
da da da boring
we are pee eel
ing skin
ny little boys until
their guts show
knock out night
we should be home but we're out
you're a babette in those heels
kick them up baby
get it out of your system
i'm holding your hair and you're holding my heart
this could just be the beautiful start
and then up comes a necklace
a penny
a watch
did you eat all that as a child? i ask
and it goes
tick tick tick
and you smile and i smile
and the mirror smiles twice
it's just one of those bad dreams where i'm off the wagon-
i know-
but even with the talent we've got nowhere better
to go.
and so my dear,
i know that times have been hard, and i know that you will prevail.
i know that the people forget- but don't forget you're alive
never be afraid of strong language
i know you sometimes feel that you've become as hard and coarse as the life
you lead
so i will tell you that i also know of a tenderness within you, which will bear
scars
but prevails as you do.
bury your beauty within you, disguise it if you must, and guard it however you
please-
though it is not a delicate thing-
i only hope you can keep it near enough to the surface
that when you find yourself in close proximity to one of those rare people who
share your language
you can remember how to show them you're alive.