kid loco remix

by the bar you say “I’m a moralist, that’s my problem”
these things, most overarching canopies, go unnoticed
you’re just another self-justifying prick, saying as if it were really
you’ve hammered spikes in people’s arms from here to nebraska
laid them down as train tracks all the way to california

all these double-sided frames are my friends
with them I tire
opening to and having to guard against their identities

it’s a combination of words that forms our language

by the bar you keep talking
somehow not noticing that I’m already gone, watching her sleep
that I willed her softly so
that there is a drawer full of antagonistic utensils in the kitchen
that my parents exist
I call them sometimes and say—
“I know you are old, but we will still fly”

my wrecking ball has been a study in composition
during destroyer dances it stayed in check
now, I’m going to treat it like a tambourine
“here is me who you’ve seldom seen” it will say
there’s you, a preacher’s son, which seems fitting
silica is found in sand, in something like glass
all it needs is an enthusiast