Capistrano swallow, answer to
your inner voice and please return,
god installed that radar in
your pointy little beak so you'd return.
epileptic surgeons with their eyes
x'ed out attend to the torn up kid.
salivate and reckon with all
the sick things that you did.
The secondary stumbles cause the cadence
of the count has lead them astray,
pray their intuition leads them
crashing into bodies in a perfect way.
But i, i saw you reeling in a parking lot,
i, i saw you rallying round a parking lot,
line up for the comfort
and kick it on the bumper,
know (no?) there is no leeway
you're standing on the freeway in love,
motion, you were destined
for the paupers grave.
Architecture students are like virgins
with an itch they cannot scratch,
never build a building till you're 50
what kind of life is that?
Stalled out on an escalator
wishing which way to return up or down,
my palestinian nephew got
his face blown off in a dusty craft.