Holding Down The Laughter - Bad Books

Styrofoam cup of mud in my good hand

Disembodied voice of God in the trash can

Eyes in the ashes, feeling for the future

Sleeping through the stakeout, researching the rumor

A mile, a motor, a mattress, a memory

At first, you were embarrassed

But how could you not be?

Tangled and teenaged, mom at the movies

Your voice ran out out of words

It was awkward and holy

The gospel in your belly, the ache a little lower

«Back into the breach,» you spoke as its owner

A syndicated sermon you sang from the rafters

Anchors in your pockets, holding down the laughter

Tearing up your mind, your lust and your ego

A slingshot reminder to speed your libido

The parish goes to jelly, blissful and wasted

Your Vishnu eye slips open and pictures them naked

In complicating your worst mixed message

You built then burnt a bridge

And scattered all your crumbs at the cliff

«If she wants me, she’ll swim for it.»

Brother, can you spare your alms or your arrows?

The thunderclaps are rising, I think that I should go home

To the basement back on Jumel Street

1996 and you’re waiting there to tell me

«I didn’t die, you dreamt it, you dreamt it

I’m as alive as your best good intentions

I’m sorry that I tricked you, you had to focus

Put yourself together and clear out the garbage.»

But for all that effort

That slow-burn struggle

You forgot where you lived

She swept away the clues from the cliff, you’re lost now

She swept away the clues from the cliff, you’re lost now

She swept away the clues from the cliff, you’re lost now

Remember it

She swept away the clues from the cliff, you’re lost now

Remember it