In the tired end of town
In the tired end of town
where folks lose their ability to speak coherent,
and dreams fall through cracks,
wanderers float home
with full throttle love around their necks;
I'm mumbling my way down there right now
with a Rorshach sky over my left shoulder,
and I promise not to linger over spills and spoils;
In the hard to pronounce end of all speechmaking
where folks find it hard to be heard
and dance steps get mixed up
adventurers are rolling home
with full throttle love in their hair;
I'm trying to keep my appointment
with a fiery sky over my right shoulder
and I promise to sing who you are
in a language that just might survive.
---Scott Wannberg
(with Dixie the cat all over my lap,making it difficult to get any
work done on the computer.Yippee.)
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