We kept our plans for the week
when the weather held out
we spent the night together
when we found a reason to leave the house
The moon was young that month
as it waned and preached to us
The wind was stronger than my car
spun in eighteen wheel Volvo dust
I'll fight till the solstice
to hear you and the finches sing
and I hope the neighbors hear us
break everything.
We're still alive but it's daytime
we're still hopeful but stoplights
broke up the old drag line.
We never wanted our sore throat
days to be illuminated,
we were cold and angry
drunk and sedated.
We found torment
on the faces of our friends
when working the dead-end
came to only half the rent.
We broke from the greening block
as redbuds and bridesmaids
and our empty houses talk.
