Every so often
Stop and take the measure

What did I do wrong?
The project fails and me with it
The nation stumbles and so must I

What are you?
I don’t know, lacking glasses
Another pale face with long dark hair in a short dark coat, blowing some foolish mist into the cold air

Every so often
Cuts to the bone
Lonely and bored
Failing at the project
Somehow my fault
Not organizing well — some sort of great evil

I don’t know what you look like
Female
I don’t know what you dream of
Escape
I don’t know what you believe in
Muscles and mistakes
I don’t know what you hope for
Flags flipping in parade-beat time
I don’t know what you love
Nothing anymore but you like totally mean to or whatever

Every so often
I’m in the wrong
In this easy-peasy time and place
Where people get their cake
and stuff their faces with it too

Every so often
I see myself in the mirror
And I want to go home
back to where I belong
back to somehow I might belong

So there you go
Looking my way while you blow mass-made lung poison the other way
And there I am
A white sack of dirty laundry over my waiting shoulders
Shoulders waiting for someone to lean against
Shoulders waiting decade upon decade for hands that might understand
what I don’t say

Ah well
Let it ride
I’m dancing barefoot
walking in battered white sneakers
and a thin shell of blues and whites
over a thin crust of yestertime’s snow
and you’re
another drop of
never mind
let it ride

I’d have to say
About the Hurt
and its consequences
About the Project
and its shortcomings
About Pure Love
and the gap between
theory and practice

Anyway
Every so often
Something hits the trigger
And like a mouse trap
I snap in upon myself

I know the belly
but not the story
and I don’t know how
to say
either one
so