written by: joe seely
the pace at our place is baked molasses
suture your scars with tar paper bandages
when you beckon, i come for comfort
cuz at the bottom of the well
love runs lazy
why don’t we fall in?…
loose the nag’s traces, his hooves afire
this cloud’s silver lining’s razor wire
where i reckon you come for comfort
let’s hope the water table swells
cuz love runs lazy
why don’t we fall in?…
weeds in the wagon wheels and pitch in the spokes
we’re spoken for
calloused hands to harvest artichokes
we choke on our words
why don’t we fall in?