There ain’t no pride,
ain’t no glory in this,
I’ve got these great gush words spewin’ from me,
‘n I got this way of shapin’ ’em, shiftin’ ’em,
makin’ ’em just so, so, beautiful.
‘n I know they’re beautiful.
I love tidal,
cataclysmic.
No survivors.
I get passion fits ‘n dream-dead stretches,
‘n they ain’t, ain’t got nothin’ to do with you.
I’m grope graspin’ out in the dark,
‘n I’m clutchin’ at everything,
‘n you, ‘n you, ‘n you just grabbed back.
I love tidal,
cataclysmic,
No survivors.
I’ve got this wave-crash-lust,
‘n this speak-up or bust–
sorta attitude, ‘n I got miles of adjectives for you,
‘n I got nothin’ but good things to say about you.
I am lightnin’,
I am fire,
I am the snap-crack of boundless desire.
I am the poet who will write about you,
I do write about you,
I never stopped.
I love tidal,
cataclysmic,
No survivors.
No survivors.
‘n now you love me,
but there are no survivors.
