Jamie

Yeah Jamie, I’m mad at you cause I’m mad at me for not asking you do you like to hum while you’re making food as a record plays in your living room does your skin glow in the afternoon pigeons congregate on a neighbor roof do you like to watch while you read a book won’t you give me your avenue Well Jamie, I’ve had it with you and your red hair and your attitude you got armchairs and cashews no cigarettes on your keyboard that you play like you’re in a fight punches made of notes that are floating by as the evening goes with a little smile when you end a tune won’t you give me your avenue Yeah Jamie, I’m mad at you cause I’m mad at me for not asking you and I’m going home cause I’ve had to choose between certainty and latitude in a city full of platitudes that we navigate largely in solitude what fortuity to bump in to you so give me your avenue