phonebooth

 

 

 

STANDING OUTSIDE A BROKEN PHONE BOOTH

WITH MONEY IN MY HAND

jan lays down and wrestles in her sleep

moonlight spills on comic books and superstars in magazines

an old friend calls and tells us where to meet

her plane takes off from baltimore and touches down on bourbon street

we sit outside and argue all night long

about a god we've never seen but never fails to side with me

sunday comes and all the papers say ma theresa joined the mob

and happy with her full time job

am I alive or thoughts that drift away?

does summer come for everyone?

can humans do what prophets say?

and if I die before I learn to speak

can money pay for all the days I lived awake but half asleep?

a life is time they teach you growing up

the seconds ticking killed us all

a million years before the fall

you ride the waves and don't ask where they go

you swim like lions through the crest and bathe yourself in zebra flesh