That is love
Unbubbled whiskey and bitter beer,
tobascoed chips and coffee to plug a tear
A waving candle flame and menthol cigarette suck
A scrappy paper by pen is struck
That is control
Words the mouth of thought
of emotions unwantingly bought
by a lady of honesty and youth
like an unheld receiver in a telephone booth
That is life
Why did trees and ambition not distract
before i became so abstract
Cast as an old man before the fall,
segmented like a child-filled car greeting a brick wall
That is subtraction
And every song that buries from the speakers,
divides my heart, makes my spirit weaker
Hurts a little, hurts a lot
so that there’s no doubt that i’ve been shot
That is art
And when i’m gone to where daemons with angels dance,
will i be settled or bad feelings enhanced?
Will jesus or the devil pay my fare?
All i have to do is gamble my dare
That is choice
Instead, i’ll accept sex and kisses
and hope that loving won’t always be misses
And so i’ll end this silly rhyme
of the dream of a woman who wants to be mine.
What is that?