sparrow eyes

keep away
with your spanish charm
your sparrow eyes
your tattoed arms

your candied groin
your rolling 'rs
your yum rum lips
your panting hard

keep back
with your spicy tactics
your licorice hair
your exotic rack

your feathered mattress
your lanterned shack
your rusted chevi
with wolf in back

i'm not the kind
to flutter and greet you
not your red rose lady
nor your mamacita

won't fluff your bed
won't groom and feed you
won't bend my back
to rub and please you

but just this once
i'll let you taste
let you touch
let you take
open the french doors
shed me naked
naughty now
confessions later

leave that there

don't you touch that
leave that there
the eggshell china
the silverware

the oil painting
the knobbled chairs
the furry coats
the minx's stare

you can't bring him
leave him there
his baby grand
his kinked up hair

can't take him with you
beyond repair
his splattered stop watch
his concrete stairs

time is ticking
time's a bear
it runs for office
it runs for mayor
the people gather
the people swear
it promises victories
it says its prayers

gypsy, gypsy
don't stand there
in that quilt of faces
with your tattered layers

the wind is burning
the wind won't share
its itinerary
its predicted fare

so before the paint dries,
the carpets wear
pack your satchel,
your pots and flares

but that heavy piece
leave that there
it's not your time
for walks in pairs

lonely export

she is a lonely export
she is sunburned and leather
she is a misplaced map
he is going down to get her

it's the same tray of circumstances
it's the same unopened letter
it's the moving violation
it's the chronic bed wetter

she's a rambling export
she's moldy cheddar
she's cutting off the lifelines
and threatening to sever

the day they walked the hudson
along the garbage and the feathers
he went home and drew her picture
i thanked the stars he'd met her

he rubbed the buddha's belly
he said they'd be together
she says she left for winter
but he's going down to get her

this is pain, this is pleasure

no you can't see them
in the fog of the dawn
alone on your futon
with your pajamas still on

they are paving your road
they are moving your boulders
carrying your name
on the nape of their shoulders

i know you are lost
i know you are broken
the pac-man machine
rejected your tokens

i know you are stuck
i know you weren't joking
when you said you'd had enough
when your car started smoking

so take this shield,
this song, and soak them
put this kimono on
find the embers and stoke them

there is fire in the lines
of the path you've chosen
melody in the pit of the throat
that's been choking

i know you are lost
i know you are broken
this is pain, this is pleasure
take the time to know them

waiting room

i'm in your waiting room
with the carpet fresh, the daily news
the fish tank, the country blues
trash magazine and raffled cruises

it's tuesday morning
and i skipped school
to pee in a cup
to show you my bruises
where life beat me up
i'm fat lipped and toothless
i'm dried up blood-
a victim of ruthless

i'm under the clock
in a cookie cutter chair
while you're scoping out throats
and brushing back hair
i'm tapping on the clipboard
to fred astair
mam sit right there

the doctor will see you
the doctor will care
his power's unchartable
his medicine rare

but i have yet to see you
you haven't touched or shared
with your alien instruments
with your truth and dare

petals unopened
rash never flared
a waiting room fixture
an unanwered prayer

leave that there

don't you touch that, leave that there
the eggshell china, the silverware
the oil paintings and knobbled chairs
those fuzzy coats, the minx's stare

you can't bring hime leave that there
his baby grand, his kinked up hair
you can't take this beyond repair
it's not your time. .

time is ticking, time's a bear
that runs for office that runs for mayor
the people gather, the people swear
it promises victories, it rewrites your prayes

gypsy, gypsy
don't stand there
in that sea of faces in tattered layers
the wind is burning the wind won't share
it will break you down beyond repair

so before the paint dries, the carpets wear
pack your satchel, your tents and flares
but that heavy piece, leave that there
it's not your time for time in pairs