Living in the present past the old the dusty the plain the last but oh oh the last when music fills your ears and you remember You Remember you remember all the listless days in your cell where you painted heaven on the walls
fall away to old begins leaving highs and winning sins paying homage living in homage smelling homage YOU ARE THERE
You are a police officer, you see a NAKED black man who might be mentally ill, but it is clear that he has no weapons, yet you shoot to kill? No tasers? No calling for backup? No tranquilizers or nothing?
Bruh.
There are wild animals that make it into suburbs and make it out alive escorted by police, but a naked, black man is shot on sight? Jesus.
Being trans is so disorienting. One second I’m stumbling out of bed half naked, and I look in the mirror and think “You look soooooo male looking and tall. It’s just not good. You’ll have to do something about that. Look at you, you’re overweight too. Gross! You should never be happy!”
Then I take a shower, and shave, and do my makeup, etc. And I look in the mirror and I think “Hey I look alright! I’m passable. I just look tall. I’m not totally fat. I really like this shirt! I can relax a little.”
Music sustains me Music sustains me Music is life when the world around is grinding death I know you think I’m morose But no! How no! The alter boys have left the show Raise bells! Order extra exclamation marks!
Music sustains me Music sustains me Music sustains me
Oh verse the curse interred the worst the silly lies we pen to speed the Hurst to our demise is first oh verse
yet being first is always wet it slicks and slimes its winners’ vines and pushes on in earnest sweat oh first you danger dangling thing you lucky, lucid, prideful ring oh first
so first our curse is verse we say and next lies firstness, lithe and gay who makes the queen in this foul play?
it’s you so choose
is being just the first horse out the best? or can penning verse so perfect quell the rest?
