You always wanted me to fall in line
like a soldier does
and keep my mouth clean
but I was always saloon mouthed
and frequently kicked out
with bourbon on my tongue.
when I would return home all
hollowed out I would
lay down on lamps to see
myself spread thin on the walls.
I make a pretty wallpaper
don’t I dear?
I wanted our love to have the
expiration date of the honey
in Alexander’s sarcophagus.
instead I got a free-fall head
to go along with my lack of
a parachute.
this deal I made with the devil was a lie.
you won’t be here to whisk me to heaven.
or even to sleep.
