1. |
Don Lusk Song
03:55
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The designs we reached by midafternoon that Sunday I skipped work and you ran away from home were huge and frightening, and I lay on the bed in white clothes, hands sweating, thinking, “Oh my god, every day I get myself into trouble, someone is there to rescue me and pretend it’s all okay,” like a dry tongue on my skin, like the white windows eating the sun that flushes through my eyelids, and I’m coming back to consciousness from the million-tiled floor, where I first met you, my father, in the summer’s silent heat. And it all floated off down the river where we watched the mountain burn in March and my mother cry. Right up the street, where the angles meet two red stopsigns and the swaying trees are the condos Don Lusk fought with bared teeth and he died there just last week with a metallic click and the lightning in the room where his daughter found him – “I always wanted a college girl,” he’d confide to us in private about his daughter, “And when she goes away, oh how happy I will be; I won’t need anything or anyone, just to see her grow up, not into dust or the drugs that haunt this town – I’ve been waiting for 30 years and I can’t figure out what’s wrong with me, with the trains or with the endlessness of days invariably passing, to know the loneliness and how to feel insane, when you step onto your front porch into an unrecognizable street.”
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2. |
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Getting wasted on the weekend as the winter descends is the right thing to do – yeah I will be okay, if you will be okay. As the tire tracks and the accidents don’t bother us, we’ll find a stoplight that’s red where you can rest your eyes and I can scream the winter skies a cold one, now I’m fucked up, I don’t have a wish or a tidy, naked statuette to sit on my heaving chest and put my brain right back to rest. ‘Cause it’s early on your eyelids, and I’m distant, and you are still so new to me, but I think it’s something good, and I won’t pick you apart. I could make you love me, I could fill you up with all of my grief and my empty eyes – I could try to be a dog, I could tear your love apart. But there’s something in me, you’re all I need. But there’s something in you – you won’t find me. If it’s a picture and I learn that it falls apart, well at least I tried to do something good – yeah I know that you’re good, and I really hope I’m good.
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