I Aim To, Yes
I will take your hand like a mountain
an impossible climb, time passing
we know this, never so gently
as the song playing in our heads, four ribbons
outta four winds, snow in the lung
shovel up to the door of your sadness heart
tonight I am a huge fire,
you’re the thunder roaring under
motel floor boards, six-pack eyes
call the owl to bread, let the garden sink
under autumn rain, listen to the dark highway
hum a sweet little song of pain,
Yes, I’ll take your hand, try very hard to understand
what the poem tried to say, what my eyes couldn’t find
all alone anyway, out here in triumph or drown land
low edge blur of town, I just want to pause the hurt
be a fixer-downer
back to the roots, inside the seed
ride the wind, let the wound bleed
back East West North South
anywhere but nowhere
everywhere the poor heart lands
yes, in your hands…
Horror Sleaze Trash 