Flightless Bird, American Mouth
I was a quick, wet boyDiving too deep for coinsAll of your street light eyesWide on my plastic toysThen when the cops closed the fairI cut my long baby hairStole me a dog-eared mapAnd called for you everywhere
Have I found you, Flightless Bird;Jealous, weeping?Or lost you, American Mouth;Big Pill, looming?
Now I’m a fat house catNursing my sore, blunt tongueWatching the warm poison ratsCrawl through the wide fence cracksPissing on magazine photosThose fishing lures thrown in the cold and cleanBlood of Christ mountain stream
Have I found you?, Flightless Bird;Grounded, bleeding?Or lost you, American Mouth;Big Pill, stuck going down