Matchbook

Drunk and indisposed, dauntless on the throne Can't get up off this couch for karaoke Heard this same song on the radio, driving to your grandfather's funeral A few gunshots at the lot where Grandma took us for ice cream Or was it fireworks in spite of the ordinance and warnings Blew my money on model rockets and matchbooks Churros and conchas on the roadside About a decade later was blundering around Pittsburgh high On steps intended for fires and furniture Liquor like licorice, blueberries and fountain dimes I was a firestarter then, but now I'm mostly benign Suddenly there was passing time Everything is blurry and brittle and now Pudgy and cramping from sleeping on the couch Because beds seem big and so do bottles Struggle to sleep but quick to swallow Cause these pills look smaller in my hands now than they did when I was a kid The clown chirps at the chimney sweep: "I want that wanderlust to stop eating, Fingertips to the nerve, perhaps they'll stop twitching Cause they tingle when I juggle now And my hand stiffens up like a monobrow If I play guitar for too long it's as if I've been punching Walls or throwing darts and dice For days in the desert with Manhattan eyes How did we get so old and you so blind Knees crackle like my when my father stands Running on concrete, trudging in sand We've got this vicious cough and the coffee's bland" Like a doll with a heart on either cheek Frantic on the mandolin, atop a beachball besieged By blazing arrows, the crowd agrees "Though we crave grotesquery They're really phoning it in this week" "Release the elephant", the ringmaster howls "I only want to your beastmaster But the broadcasts are foreboding and cataclysmic The ballyhoo and ballrooms will combust and subside If we continue this charade don't know if I could sleep in your arms tonight"- Cage unlatched, curtain dropped Trunk shambling like a somber cross Dragged through the dirt The circus tent stuffy with dust and panting The crowd divides like a sea split or a splinter through damp skin The clown frightfully dips, beneath the bleachers The neck of his instrument snapped and sagging Why did I ever want to leave Why did I ever want to leave my friend Why did I ever want to leave Why did I ever want to leave my friend