Nonfiction

I don't know my telephone number

But you kiss good and

I'd like to see you tomorrow

And I don't beg,

I pay, I don't barter

If we had a child

I'd like a son, not a daughter

No she'd be just like you you know that would not do

I'm no builder,

I'm no gardener

I sing some songs

Have a friend who's a photographer

There ain't no other language

I know how to speak

Some like their water shallow and

I like mine deep so very deep

Tied to the bottom with a noose around my feet

Clouds conspire above my head

I overheard them say

I wish he was dead

Today the sunset burned my eyes

In the next room

I hear someone cry

I like to dress up like the jury

To eat like a king, to poke fun at clergy

To talk like dirt to love you like tar

But never fall in too fast with my north star, no no no

While you pull your hair out

I buy the drinks at the bar

Clouds conspire above my head

I overheard them say

I wish he was dead

Today the sunset burned my eyes

In the next room

I hear someone cry