We keep on staring at the houses
making our own little comments.
Like how this one has a steeple
and a lawn or no lawn depends.
but in the end it doesn't matter cause the language is pretend.

I saw a play about a young man
who smoked too many cigarettes.
He had a grandma and an uncle
but he never met the rest
cause the family had retired they were through being the best.

We caught a glimpse of the last act
the boy was jumping off a train.
And the grandma and the uncle
eventually went insane.
but they kept his leather jacket,pocket watch and wallet chain.

Oh, please someone see
what the lies make me believe.
As the light gleams off the dust
that has fallen on all of us.
Where is the hope in slow decay?
Make us numb and go away.

A give and take of our insides
like an exchange for a cab ride.
City buses trample us
were sewer grates collecting rust

Put down your pistols,
pick up your son
put down the whiskey before life is done.

And your son is staring down at you
with those same hazel eyes.
Thinking I never knew this man
but I often heard his lies.

12/03/2009