Our Secret Places
Tell me something pretty like you mean it
because we’re cut loose and drifting
wading through terrors and half-bred joys
strewn about the landscape like
somebody’s garbage
I hear the dark’s been asking around
it knows our names
our numbers
all our secret places
The day is coming
when we’ll be 86’d from every
heart and every bar
and there will be a reckoning
and we’re as guilty as any guilty thing
that was ever naked beneath the slivered moon
blinking in the judgment of the sun.