about sixteen
in my journal i scratched
"like an axe
i wait for blood"
for the punishment
that comes
from taking in that
wry face that boy's face
the beach water eyes
and sandy skin
the sunburnt nose
those white doggish teeth
knowing that
each study was a curse
a prayer to the
revolving earth
a scream of
let me get what the fuck i want
for once lord
or maybe twice
and now i guess
the blood has come
but not in the way i had begun
to expect
not a river i am not
smote
by some strict
father god
just occasional
drops
as if i fell and
scraped my knees on the road
as if i fell chasing
occasional drops that
smear and spell
time is not here, only now
and sex and laughing
time is not here
but we smoke in the bed
we scrape our ash into a coke can
and we stick together with sweat
and time is not here
even though i reckon
i would marry you
i know in a second i would
and time is not here
baby
you do not think
time's around here
you say i suppose
ive got a crush
without any hunger
for a ball and chain
and i suppose
ive got a crush
and a prison cell
and a bleeding knee
from falling
chasing
from begging
the revolving earth
