Litkicks Message Board Archive

let's see if this worked.

andy andy, he's away 
                                     again. 
and the knees
                                          in my waiting jeans                     
                     are wearing thin.


i'm in the dryer,
                        after the washer; 
                                                  tumbling over and over and over:


(i do it cos i like to be clean.)
(and i like to be seen)
(and talked to)

              i try to 
                      glide through
            unsuspecting rules. but
                                                i keep getting caught.
                by sticks in the mud. 

(and really, who am i 
                           to try
                           to loft out of the quicksand anyway.)

                                                i think 
                                                i would 
                                                just like 
                                                to hear 
                                                you say 
                                                my name 
                                                one more 
                                                time.
                      (while my brain is falling in and out of rhyme.)