February 16, 2008
Foals in winter coats, White girls of the North, Fire past one, five and one They are the fabled lambs of Sunday ham, The EHS norm And they can float above the grass, In circles if they tried, A latent power I know they hide, To keep some hope alive, That a girl like I'm could ever try, Could ever try. So we just skirt the hallway sides, A phantom and a fly, Follow the lines and wonder why There's no connection. A week of rolling eyes, And cheap shots from the trite, And we're off to Nemarca's porch again, Another afternoon of the goat head tunes, And pilfered booze. Family portrait circa ninety-five, ~Courtesy the Shins, Phantom Limb Hi Mom, Grandma