ode to you, and the king
Angels sway, angels sway from the perch of today
Never being still at the sound of wind
Or the hesitation of crooked fingers climbing up your spine
No today is fine
No today is fine
And there is no one sad
The wings are white your wings are white
Believing in the end of the cold
The end of the old
And the end of everything in-between
I want it to be like the circus I never went to but imagined
Alot
Love you more
Gonna love you more
Than ever before
And you don’t have to know but you will
Sometimes I wish I had more that two legs and I could move like a caterpillar
In the dirt
On each of my legs will be a poem I wrote \
Just for you
I feel it all
I feel it all
The wings are white.
Breathing like a star with a dramatic piano solo in the background
And stopping and buying lots of beer
You staying in the car and I buy you a cheesy ac/dc lighter
God winks at me and tells me to take it all the way to the end
And I wait for the credits to roll up
Over my last scenery
But she was cold and sad
And I wanted to pick her up and take her to a place she’d never been
Oh, I feel like a song everybody knows
And I want them to sing out loud in broken rhythm and out of tune
Take my hand
Take my whole life too
Cause I can’t help falling for you
Just like a lyric of an old Elvis song
To raise and put forth all the energy that I need to keep going
And keep surviving and keep looking
And keep creating and keep typing letter after letter typing even if it doesn’t make any goddamn sense and no it doesn’t make any sense but maybe hidden in the letters in the way that I am composing or in the way I am moving my head slightly back and forth maybe there is a reason maybe there is some sense, anyways it feels right, right now so I will keep going and if
I think of something
Else I’ll probably tell you about that too. Like the time I was at some youth retreat and I knock this girl in the snow and it was
Like a song in a cathedral
And no one spoke they all just listened and think I had a tear in my eye
I’ll pause to listen now….
A stain of tourist covers the ground that I want to take you to
And we can build a statue out of pinecones and sticks
I’ll even name it the king. I’ll name it for Elvis.
And it may be contagious
And it could be contagious