These are leftovers.

Gardener, you forget that I struggle every time I’m with you
The ground we trail has four our feet on
But you decide which flower to grow
No wonder your favorite plant is the cactus
Like them you never strip your leaves
Spines that shade you from the sun
They protect you from water-seeking animals

Like me

These are leftovers, boy
So get me a good one
These are leftovers, boy
Go get me a better one


In the course of conversation sexual tension
Begins to build up signals float across the room
In fear of loom they prefer to splash pretty
soon nothing is clear and what was near is lost to the crash .


Gardener, I’m the soil you tread upon
Stop acting stupid please be
Careful where you sink the shovel
Removeremove, you would
Pick off the root from the nerve Or quizá estoy over reaccionando...

Prick (draft)

Sometimes you’re a prick, you know?
You don’t give me enough time to grow
Our days, they don’t go by slowly anymore
Like when in my youth
(how cruel of you)

Have you pulled another of your tricks?
Leaving a rare beam of sunshine on my lips
That I can’t taste because it gets dark and I fall asleep
And who knows what you plot while I sleep…

- Steady beat, beat, beat, beat, beat, beat, beat, beat, beat, beat.

And while we dance, eat, or drink,
Make love, read a poem, play pelota, or sing,
You keep count on the measures of everything
And you accumulate forever,
Not keeping track of anything,
Collecting incessantly, like
Rag pickers in their bunny bags,
Is this too your way to survive?

But that wouldn’t make my heart weep
If it weren’t because you inevitably steal
My idea of making life a permanent dream
No matter what I do, stupid or crucial,
Worthy or worthless,
To you quality is

- Just a tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick.

Untamable one,
It is me who sets your presence in motion,
Don't forget that
When under my breath I bridle a cry, weep panic to sleep.

Sad

Who is the sun shining for if we are all locked up in schools, offices, homes and prisions?