Saturday, November 07, 2009

Necker Note Boll Weevil


BOLL WEEVIL

I make boats run through the sea. I make boats run through the sea. I make it rain. I boil the trees and the giraffes loud as knives. I raise babies pink between the slats of cribs. I make it rain. I boil the trees and the giraffes loud as knives. I raise babies pink between the slats of cribs. I make boats run through the sea. I make the boll weevils cry. I make it rain. I boil the trees and the giraffes loud as knives. I raise babies pink between the slats of cribs. I make it rain. I boil the trees and the giraffes loud as knives. I raise babies pink between the slats of cribs. I make boats run through the sea. I make the boll weevils cry. I make it rain. I boil the trees and the giraffes loud as knives. I raise babies pink between the slats of cribs. I make the boll weevils cry. I make the boll weevils cry. I make the boll weevils cry. I make the boll weevils cry. I make a difference. I’m a big stupid baby stuck between ground and sky.

“You’re a know nothing” sky says to me. “Sky’s right,” ground says, but what do parents know? I take off my hat in the river, set my hair on fire.

No comments: