Pink Razors Dogs In Headlocks
On the day you got evicted, it lacked a certain
sadness, some feeling of depression that we all
expected. Maybe it was just me, maybe I'm the
only one who doesn't see this as an ending. On
the day we finally moved away I felt some
liberation, it might take deliberation, we're
willing and unstable. Maybe it was just me, maybe
I'm the only one who knows when we're all
pretending. What's your address? What's your
phone number? What's some way that I can keep
in touch? Forgot your address. Forgot your
phone number, and I know that out of reach
means out of touch--when you're more than two
blocks away, and it's too hot to ride your bike
today, and work wore me out yesterday, and I
realize I share the blame. Maybe it was just
me, maybe I'm the only one who saw more than
geography, convenience wasn't all it offered me,
around the corner and down the street.
