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lengvumu pavergė
sunkumais pardavė
iš kiemo išvarė
duonos neįdėjo

the answer came
like a shot
in the back
while you were running from
your lesson,
which might explain
why years later
all you could remember
was the terror of the question.
plus, you weren't listening
hard,
you were stockpiling canned goods and making a bomb shelter
of our basement.
and i can't believe you let
the moral go by
while you were soaking in the product placement.
and where was your conscience?
where was your consciousness?
and where did you put
all those letters
that you wrote
to yourself
but could not address?
yeah, i'm a good kisser,
and you're a fast learner,
and that kind of thing
could float us for a pretty long time.
and then one day,
ou'd realized you've memorized
my phone number,
and you'll call it and find
it's a disconnected line.
cuz i got tossed out the window
of love's el camino
and i shattered into a shower of sparks on the curb.
you were smoking me weren't you between your yellow fingers,
you just inhaled and exhaled
without saying a word.
where was your conscience?
where was your consciousness?
and what did you do
with all those letters you wrote
to yourself
but could not address?
there's a smorgasbord
of unspoken poisons,
the whole childhood
of potions
that are all bottled up,
and so one by one i am
dusting off labels,
i am uncorking bottles
and i am filling up cups.
go ahead and have a taste
of your own medicine.
here i'll have a taste of mine,
but first lets toast to the lists
that we hold in our fists
of the things that we promised
to do differently next time.
cuz the answer came
like a shot
in the back
while you ran from your lesson
which might explain
why years later all you could remember the terror of the question.
cause i'm not listening
to you anymore.
my head is too sore
and my heart's perforated
and i am mired in the marrow
of my "well ain't that funny?" bone, learning how to be alone and
devastated.
where was my conscience?
where was my consciousness?
and where
do i put
all these letters
that i wrote to myself
but could not address?

Skaityti senus pagalvojimus - tai labai panašu kaip žiūrėti į savo piešinius iš vaikų darželio.

Biriukas. Man labai gražus žodis.

Šįryt nusibalnojau gražų polėkį. Pamiršau kokį - labai skaudėjo.

Išgersiu kavos
reikia
kuom nors
užpilti nerimui
lubas

Atrodau kaip kriminalinis ežys blondinas. Go shoot the barber.

Ar kas nors girdi, kaip išraiškingai aš kosėju? Ne tai lojimas, ne tai muzika...

Peršalimo drebulys primena, kokios teisios mūsų bobutės, kai kreta: Saugok, vaikeli, sveikatą, be jos tai jau nieko nebus... Va ir nėra nieko iš manęs - kaip varlė žaliam metaliniam laistytuve su nuimama prakiurusia galva. Br.