Litkicks Message Board Archive

Picking at my Socks

Posted to Action Poetry





I knew this girl, she tasted like cigarettes
Taught me 'bout the nighttime
Put loads of crazy stuff in my head
She read my stories of the Knights of the Round Table
We watched every movie starring Betty Grable
And together we traveled thru time

Who couldve guessed that she was make-believe
They hit me with sticks and stabbed with knives
Until they made me realise that it was just
sumpin' my wild imagination could achieve
And I listened to them with my spiked haircut
Walking around with my Im-better-than-you strut
I laughed at all the rich people while picking up
My royalty check
I slept at nite and cried during the day
Man, ya kno I was just a wreck

One day I remembered this girl of mine
She still tasted like cigarettes only now
with a bit of rye
She was now really into James Dean
"He's so fresh and lean," she told me
I agreed with a grin and she gave me a sign
Twisting and shouting I ran into the
forest and climbed every last tree
I knew not of what I did
Dismissed today and ran into the next one
Afterwards, she smelled of fresh pine and squid
Oh man, I'll never let them get me again