Fresh from the Poultry Farm

Carseat Lullabye

Cuts and bruises, bruises and scars
That we got from toying with other cars
When the road was more than enough to share
And really, they could have gone anywhere
Rather than both try to fill the same spot
On a Tuesday so tired when the road was so hot
And the glass was all glittery there on the street
And the witnesses helpful and caring a sweet
And the sky sunny blue and your cheeks teary pink
And the spots on my skirt rather fetching, I think
And the wail of the sirens not louder than yours
That rang from the hospital's ceilings and floors
Bruises and cuts and thank God nothing bad
(Not like the man in the other room had)
Cuts and bruises, bruises and scars
Can you keep a secret about other cars?
I can see as they speed up to pass from the side
That they've hit us again and someone has died
The emergency room is now miles away
And the scream on your face will not go away
Cuts and bruises, bruises and more
The hot on my hands is smeared on the door
Cuts and bruises, bruises and God-
Cuts and bruises, bones and blood
The screech and the crash and the pain and then
The car finally stops and we're home safe again
And I, for the hundredth time, happen to find
That we've died just a little, just in my mind.


There are some hills over there...

Excuse me while I build my ark,
I haven't got much time.
Fast the flooding waters rise,
Go find a hill to climb.
Do you mind not standing in my light?
Hey, give me back my tools!
Must you insist on sabotage?
Keep away, you fools!
The hand you lend, it hardly helps.
I need no Three-Piece Messiah
All I need is One Good Lord
For when the waves get higher.
Don't preach vicarious atonement
For when this day is through
I highly doubt you will have found
Someone else to drown for you.

Labels: Poetry

posted by Abez @ 10/15/2006 04:51:00 PM