DigUpHerBones

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I'm surrounded, each doorway covered
by at least twenty men.
And they're going to take me and throw me in prison.
I ain't coming back again.

When I was younger, handsomer and stronger,
I felt like I could do anything.
But all of these people making all these faces
didn't seem like my kith and kin.

Colin Kincaid from the twelfth grade,
I guess you could say he was my best friend.
He lived in a big tall house out on Westfall
where we would hide when the rain rolled in.

We went out one night and took a flashlight,
out with these two girls Colin knew from Kenwood Christian.
One was named Laurie, that's what the story
said next week in the Guardian.

And when I killed her it was so easy
that I wanted to kill her again.
I got down on both of my knees and...
She ain't coming back again.

Now, with all these cameras focused on my face,
you'd think they could see it through my skin.
They're looking for evil, thinking they can trace it,
but evil don’t look like anything.

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far away, comets crush lilac stars
their tracts of light forming islands of white
with smoke from my cigar

i watch these islands up above me
their coastlines blurred by solar humidity
reaching out to a sea fading from peach to violet

i feel the grasp of sand, stuck to summer sweat,
feel blasts of hot air and gasp for breath
then a salty sea breeze sucks the sting from sudden heat

i rest in shade, a deportee
sucking on the life of my country

some day this stormy island
will find its feet have reached water
and crawl off the beach.