the bones of bats

when your bones go bad and the color yellow find your teeth and your legs stop working, even basically, you won't be able to escape, like running under water soon you'll find yourself working harder. and in the dark you hear your heart beating in your blood and your veins struggle with the mud, rust colored when you cut your skin. it's silly that long ago you were given the gift of bones and courage to go where you shouldn't have and now you can barely leave your bed.

younger times when spring came so did the cops burning by the ocean with beer and your love fucking on off season porches only to notice the neighbor has come early standing by his venetian blinds. she threw her egg in the water, wrapped in blood and cotton and yo imagined with the aid of the heater and violent violins on your way home that something caught it's death that night. and now you're ready to catch yours.

the city's year now becomes clear. the tangles untangle, the car horns and sirens have caught up with what the bottom of beers left behind, the ghost rings and their old ghostly conversations and no more sneaking out into the desert. the work and play piled up and built a home and hair and nails will still grow when you find yourself under.
so clap your hands when your fingers stop and push harder when you say you can't because you were bleeding bones and will now eat your crow under some astro turf and it can't get too much worse, right?

the bell blew the building and she opened her doors. the sidewall coughed and spit out the street. your legs hiccuped and our came your feet. this coming clean in this world of dirt, only you'll get dirty again so love your lover.

there's now nothing to hold, so this must be paradise. deep in the night, bless me father. i lost a fight so call off the pity. he stole my wallet and a picture of my first love so i will pray for lost things and sleep on your house steps. and i am still blind and bats still have holes for eyes and eyes for holes, blacked out and so cold. so come to me this night and we'll make it an occasion and make our own death dance and play flutes and whistle like champs and sing the same songs alongside the same radio and make it all go away. the girls and the sewer grates, they're all the same, they rot like holy shit and clean just the same.

give me a dime for every dollar every time i called her, told her i love you, only to find out later he fucked her, here in my bed. dreary sheets and bet on me, i told her. she was blessed with two hearts.