The moon was hanging heavy like a cinderblock dangling from one arm
And the hole in the blanket cut out like a broken thumbnail
The queen of spades dyed her hair red, while blue contacts give a false sunrise
Cigarette smoke off a second story balcony, a 747 comet tail heading for the coast.
There are two olives left in a shallow bowl next to the ranch dressing
There is no drama in the situation, just orange juice and cold coffee.
All the phone numbers she left on bar napkins turn out to be wrong numbers
Drinking soda at the bar makes for long nights and longer walks through downtown.
If my breath is as hard as ashtrays and my elbows face down in bed,
Wake me after two in the afternoon with black cat paws running across wood floors
Let the queen of hearts have her breakfast behind our shower curtains
Say hello to the folks and drive over fifty through the Wisconsin Dells for me.
Japanese literature in the morning, tequila after coffee and French fries at the diner
A punch drunk Qwest neon horizon forces its way through morning smog
Second story wood plank porches make for excellent cigarette litter boxes
There is snow on blank branches, garlic powder crusted hash browns in the kitchen,
Black tea bags collect mold on the dining room table
and orange juice wants more drama than the morning newspaper promises
the only head on his pillow is his own half bald and ink stained
I hope you enjoy mis amigos, as always solidarity forever, live free, ride free, be safe
god speed lil animals,