Tangles
By Walter Burns
I’m looking through the eye of the needle Down the bottom of the bottle A very fast song is spinning And my cat's feeding off the garbage I’m too busy wishing there was a drop left Too busy wishing there was a drop left To notice that I am bleeding Does it even matter what mom said Does it matter does it matter that she’s dead I’m too busy dying all the time too busy to call her up My dog is licking up the wasteland The wasteland spilled and now I gotta pick it up My head is spinning eyes are burning Eyes are seeing different angles From the floor and in the sky My mind is lost in tangles My attempt to right myself Involves the pantry-- Maybe I’ll lie here and close my eyes instead Maybe I’ll lie here until I’m dead Smoking snake creeps through my toes Farewell my crawling awareness My skin's so tight and blood o’erflows As I die I believe in fairness The garbage spills and I am buried The dog and cat dine tonight Soon they’ll find me and my kids will cry But then, as oft, it will be all right Written February 13th, 2002 © on Feb 13 2002 02:24 PM PST 0 • 1
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"I’m looking through the eye of the needle..."