terrified
slowly i disintegrate
with your line
carry on
your feel-and-switch approach
baffles me
but tell me it's enough
when monuments are not
and you arrest your own heart
(again)
oh, Ira
paralyzed
the stabilizers clench
and release
(would you have me leave?)
coma comes
i bet you need a cigarette
about now
but i would like to think
the shape that you trace
is the way my back bends (for you)
attacks on my spine
silent winter drive
four months at a time,
more dead (than alive)
oh, Ira
maybe Ira needs something
maybe I run east too much
maybe irony's something
maybe irony's too much