Your words go tingling down my spine; tiny dandelion wishes
and gasps. For air.
Broken tangents and quivering lips,
and pieces of my mind got lost somewhere
around the adjective. Dizzy.
Your words have claimed the breath already
and I cannot say a thing.
The rain drips down your skin,
running over your hills and bends and flooding in the valleys.
Breath drifting in and out,
filling and emptying the spaces in between us.
No sunlight today to dance on your skin,
but you glimmer in the darkness,
Pure, radiant, angel of death.
Sometimes when we are hurt,
the sore lingers and we scratch at the scab.
We demand sutures but the wound is too old.
There is nothing to be done for it now but to stop scratching and let it heal.
We know that there is nothing to be accomplished by itching;
what do we hope to gain from it?
But yet, it itches so much.
Been working on “Caroline” today
The most important freedom we have here, in America, is the right to piss off our government. That is the freedom that we need to protect above all else. It is that freedom from which all other freedoms stem. It is the true difference between us and North Korea. If I can’t insult Obama without legal charges or spit on the American flag without being executed, then I have no freedom because if I can’t do that, then it’s not much further before I can’t say things like “The tax code is unfair” or “going to war with Iran is a stupid idea”. In a way, the most “patriotic” thing you can do is be “unpatriotic”.