Plain American Language

I cut a sliver/of WC William's finger
and placed it inside/my philosophy...

Monday, February 14, 2011

I was listening to too much Tallest Man on Earth, and wrote a song called I'm Going Swimming

(this rhymes and doesn't rhyme in's rough, and if you want to put it to music, feel free. In my mind, it is finger-picked and sung with a lilt, a little fast & folky)

I'm building diamond mines in Africa, my chest.
I doubt the workers will be getting any rest
too soon, but if I were you
I'd think about the cliffs in Martha's Vineyard and if
I were you, I'd paint them just a shade grayer,
or two. At 32 degrees
the snow will pile on my heart and leaves
will tell us stories of the wet and the blue.
If I were you, I'd head off to the south
and there I'd live without the fear
of stains of onion on my fingertips,
then touch my lips. I once heard a story
of a nosebleed that filled the world with blood,
I think it was the Nile, I might have read that
in a book somewhere. Classical literature.
Was it Dante or the Aeneid that said love
was floating above me, floating
like those glass-like bits of beauty
when we look up from under water.
And time, it is reflective of the glass-like
bits of pain, the breath we breathed accidentally again:
sometimes I can't see (x3) when I'm swimming.

No comments: