i say i am ok now,
but i keep thinking
what happens to the past
that we all love saying
we ought to leave behind!
what do i do about
all the pricks i have known
all the *icks i have seen
all the sheets that we've kept
rolling and rolling in
i ask if it's ok now?
that i only keep my mouth shut
and i close my eyes when
in the barn we are two hens
and one thinks its alright
he wraps the towel really thight
and we hang around and sit and talk
when all i want is run and hide
to write another paragraph
describing what i see
every hill and every tree
and that person i could be
but now i have a different path
so i try not being a sociopath
it's the age of serious
the time of loyal and proud
so i say i will behave
i swear on my turtle's grave
though turning off what i have
would be killing my other half
i know there's no such switch
still i can avoid being a bitch
and i can sing a better song
glam and blues 've gotten old