Last night rain all night
I heard not a drop
But the bees nesting on the balcony
Swarmed my dream about Arkansas

I am pounding on the side of my guitar
The woodpecker tapped my dream about fucking Marilyn Monroe
I’d like to get a metal detector for the precious
Her golden hair

You got the tickets, right
I’m glad she didn’t say it in the rhythm of a seizure
Five dead in four weeks
Something collapsed                 If we are, then we will

Say that

Brian Clements |  > > > > >
Contents | Mudlark No. 49 (2013)