Sweating through the cotton balls If I could
walk forever I couldn’t How many
times I put my ear to the same glory
hole Kneeling akimbo in patchwork dirt
If she said it was a flight risk I would
believe her These days I pay for my own
skin to grow Officers found me eighteen
kilometres away from her bedframe
Told you Public decency says get off
There’s a line behind you At least one man
ages to migrate for spring A common
magpie furnishes its nest with my ear
Thrusts its beak inside and eats it out Noise
